


Granade

by TeaEnthusiast



Category: Game of Thrones (TV), Pompeii (2014), Real Person Fiction
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2018-09-22 15:05:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 31,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9613073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeaEnthusiast/pseuds/TeaEnthusiast
Summary: Beezus was ready to go- in the broad sense of the term-, she was ready to die. It hadn't been an easy mindstate to achieve, but after dealing with cystic fibrosis for so long, she felt ready for whenever it was her time. Until she met Kit Harington...(Story as well as extras for it can be found on my tumblr; http://teaenthusiast65.tumblr.com/)





	1. Chapter 1

Hospitals suck.

Anyone who said otherwise was insane or on some really good medication, hence why they probably liked hospitals. Even when the hospital is trying its hardest to make itself not suck, it sucks even more. And by ‘try hard’ I mean get a bunch of celebrities to come visit a bunch of sick kids to make them feel better. I, however, was not feeling better.

First of all, I was in the hospital to have fluid drained from my lungs. A procedure that hurt and made me feel terrible afterwards. Secondly, I had no idea that a bunch of celebrities would be visiting the hospital today, so I had made no effort on my appearance; I was wearing a baggy woolen jumper, jeans and boots. I hadn’t bothered brushing my hair or putting on a stitch of make-up. Needless to say, I was in no shape to be visited by stunningly attractive celebrities.

Having Cystic Fibrosis meant I generally looked pretty bad anyway, my lungs sucked at being lungs so I had to have oxygen fed into them through a cannula that had two small prongs that stuck up my nose.  An extremely attractive look as one can imagine.

I hadn’t always been a walking tragedy, just last year I could almost pass for a heathy human being; my hair that looked light brown could almost seem copper in the sun. I had a beautiful golden tan that set off the green in my hazel eyes. I’d even had the hints of a curvy figure beginning to form.

But now, I had become the pale wisp of the girl I used to be. My eyes looked far too big for my gaunt face and all hint of womanly curves had gone. I could now pass for a sick fourteen year old.

Which, admittedly, I was behaving a little like one. I didn’t want my picture taken with a celebrity because I was feeling particularly self-conscious, probably depriving myself of some proper fan-girling moment that I would enjoy.

I had barely poked my head into the community lounge room in the  Teenager Ward where most of the patients were being greeted by an array of guests from one of the most popular television shows in the world, Game of Thrones, before I balked and decided to go to the children’s ward. I’d be safe there until my cousin decided to drive me home.

“Beezus!” said a happy voice.

I looked down to see Emma rushing over to me, carrying her oxygen cart behind her.

“Hey, cutie.” I smiled as she flung her arms around my waist in a bone crushing hug.

Emma had the same state of lung deterioration as me, except she was only eight, whilst I was twenty-one. We were often lumped together at hospital events because of our similar condition and I had grown quite fond of the little girl.

“Can you come tell us a story?” she asked hopefully.

Emma didn’t wait for me to answer as she grabbed my hand with her free one and dragged me over to the lounge room where the other child patients were. In my many stays at the hospital I had developed a bit of a reputation amongst the patients for telling stories; being able to spin a story off the top of my head was always something I’d been good at and something the kids enjoyed.

I was soon surrounded by a babble of kids all speaking in similar volumes of excitement, “Tell the story about the goldfish that swam to Tasmania!” said Angela, a little girl with cancer, as she and the other kids crowded around me.

They all started to make requests about previous stories and as they pulled me to the couch. I was practically shoved into a chair by a group of sickly children demanding to be told a story.

“No, tell a new one!” said Emma.

Unable to refuse the little girl who I saw so much of myself in, I began to weave a story in my head as all the children sat down in anticipation.

“Ok,” I said as I positioned myself on the chair a little better, sitting my oxygen down beside me.

I cleared my throat to buy myself a moment of time to think, “Once upon a time there was a little Porcelain Doll who wanted to tap dance,” I invented, “but everyone told her that she couldn’t because she would break her little porcelain legs”.

The children sat on the ground looking up at me with wide eyes and anticipation. I clasped my hands together in front of me and couldn’t help but smile, my bad mood evaporating around their contagiously good ones.

“But the little Porcelain Doll didn’t listen and tap danced anyway,” I continued.

“Was she a really good dancer?” asked Emma, her blue eyes wide with wonder.

“Yes, she was.” I said enthusiastically, “The best dancer the world had ever seen”

The children looked around at each other in excitement.

“Until she broke both her legs,” I said simply.

Their excitement fell quicker than their smiles.

“But, all was not lost,” I added quickly, not wanting to draw out their anguish, though it did make for good story-telling when I was able to take them on a rollercoaster of emotions, “because they called Doctor Crazy-Glue and he was able to glue her legs back together”

The lift in the children’s mood was tangible.

“But he warned her if he did, then she would never be able to tap dance again.” I concluded.

The children’s faces fell. I couldn’t help but smile to see how invested the children were in my story already, the emotions they were feeling so clearly written on their tiny faces.

“So what did she do?”, asked an accented voice.

Looking up I saw Richard Madden, Natalie Dormer, Harry Lloyd and Kit Harington, all of whom had just listened to me telling a bunch of children a story…

Oh crap.

I stared in absolute shock, unable to move. The first thing that struck me was just how attractive all of them were. It was one thing to see them on television looking fabulous after hours of professionally applied make-up , but to have them all in front of me looking so gorgeous naturally and in a hospital nonetheless - a notorious vacuum for the unattractive -  was amazing.

After being overwhelmed by their collective attractiveness I began to take them in individually. 

Richard’s eyes were a startling blue; the television really didn’t do them justice. Harry Lloyd was shockingly thin and tall, so much so that he reminded me of an adolescent boy. Natalie Dormer had absolutely flawless skin. And Kit Harington… there was so much with him.

His hair was a little longer than I expected and not as dark as it was on television but it was just as curly. He was a little more muscled than I anticipated; I could actually see the clear definition of his arm muscles through the strain of the fabric of his shirt. His eyes, which I had originally dismissed as being brown, were far more than that; they were dark pools that I felt I could fall into. He had a hard jawline broken by plump lips, the upper of which had two perfectly formed peaks that seemed almost famine and out of place on a man, but it looked good on him. It made me wonder if he was a good kisser…

“Beezus, what happened to the Porcelain Doll?” asked Emma impatiently.

I opened and closed my mouth several times but no words came out… I was still stuck staring at the group of celebrities in front of me.

Tearing my gaze away from them I looked down at Emma, still unable to speak.

“Ok, kids, we have some very special visitors here for you today” called a nurse.

The attention was suddenly pulled from me as all the children turned to look at the Head Nurse and the celebrities with her.

“These people are from a television show. Do you guys know which one?” asked the Head Nurse, beaming down at the children.

“Game of Thrones!” they all screamed excitedly.

I frowned in confusion, how did a bunch ten-year-olds know the show Game of Thrones? What were their parents doing? There was beheading, incest and attempted child murdering in that show. And that was just the first episode!

The children then proceeded to rush at said celebrities and I took the chance to remind myself to breathe. Puffing out my cheeks I let loose a long breath I didn’t know I’d been holding before I stood up and grabbed the handle of my oxygen cart and began to wheel it after me.

Having thoroughly embarrassed myself I decided to make an exit, but before I could even get to the door, Emma called my name.

“Beezus, look, it’s Jon Snow! Look, its Jon Snow!” she squealed in excitement as she dragged said character over to me.

“I know,” I said smiling down at her, trying not to dampen her excitement with my embarrassment. I let my eyes flick to Kit briefly, before I focused back on Emma.

“This is so cool! Isn’t it cool?” she asked.

“Very cool,” I agreed.

“Look, Robb Stark is handing out Direwolf teddies!” she said before she took off towards him.

“Get me one too!” I called after her trying to ignore the butterflies in my stomach at being left alone with Kit Harington.

He stared after Emma, smiling happily with his hands in his pockets.

I tried to focus on the babble of children currently crowding the King of the North screaming for plush toys but the awkward silence between Kit and I was incredibly awkward.

“I’m Beezus.” I said suddenly, unable to take the silence anymore.

He frowned in confusion, “Beezus?” he repeated.

“Yeah. My younger brother couldn’t say Beatrice, so he called me Beezus and it just sort of stuck,” I explained, the words tumbling out of my mouth before I could stop them. I was having a strange case of verbal vomit that went perfectly with the flapping of butterflies in my stomach.

I desperately tried to remain calm as he offered his hand to me, “I’m Kit.” he said.

“I know,” I said as I shook his hand, “My brother is a big Game of Thrones fan.”

I noted with interest that his hand had a certain roughness to it. Which I liked. It showed that he used his hands and wasn’t some pampered Prince like a lot of guys nowadays.

“Your brother. Not you.” he stated.

I felt the butterflies in my stomach fluttered erratically as I realized I had probably offended him, “No, I mean, I love the show!” I said quickly, “I’m just the kind of girl who buys a new book every week but is always reading Harry Potter” I explained.

“It’s ok, I like Harry Potter, too.” he smiled.

“What’s not to like?” I said, smiling back awkwardly as I desperately searched for another topic.

In the end we went back to standing in an uncomfortable silence, watching the children again.

“So what ends up happening?” he asked suddenly, turning to look at me.

I frowned in confusion, “Excuse me?”

“To the Doll. What ends up happening?” he asked.

“Oh, no.” I smiled, trying to hide the fact that I had actually completely forgotten the plot to my story, “No spoilers,” I said firmly.

“Oh, come on! I’ll tell you who Jon Snows Mother is,” he pleaded.

I laughed in spite of myself, “Despite the possible millions I could make with that information, polite pass,” I smiled.

He smiled again. It was strange that in the many photo’s I’d seen of Kit, because, yes, I had googled him before, he hardly ever smiled. Now he was smiling quite a lot; with me? Because of me? I was unsure.

Before I could ponder that thought for too long, Emma came skipping back, holding two Direwolves, “Look! I have a Direwolf!” she said excitedly showing me the grey Wolf.

“This one is yours,” she said, handing me the other plush toy, which was black.

“Thank you, Emma” I smiled.

“I’m calling mine Peaches. What are you going to call yours?” she asked.

“Ah…” I stared at the toy for a moment, “Paddington.” I eventually settled on.

The Head Nurse then called everyone to attention, obviously annoyed with the disorganized fun the children were having. She quickly called everyone into order.

For the next hour I sat in a circle, Emma to my left, Kit to my right as the children asked as many questions of the actors as their hearts desired. There of course were questions I wanted to ask, but I whispered them to Emma, who was dismaying at not being able to think of a question.

Eventually the kids dissolved off into groups to talk a little more with their favorite actor. I sat with Emma on my knee playing with our Direwolves. I was starting to feel a little more relaxed the more time I spent around the Game of Thrones stars, the way they were all so at ease really broke down the ‘celebrity vs normal’ barrier that I had created in my mind. I stopped caring about how I looked and acted around them. I didn’t even bat an eyelid when Natalie and Kit came over to join us.

“So how long will you guys be in Australia for?” I asked conversationally.

“This is day four of twelve,” said Natalie.

“And what have you done so far? Seen any of the sites?” I asked.

“Yeah we all just came down from Sydney this morning,” said Kit.

“Did you climb the bridge?”

“Yeah.”

“Typical.” I sighed, “So got anything else so boringly cliché planned?”

“Funny you should mention that,” said Kit turning to Natalie with a sigh.

“I would like to do something really Australian this weekend. Something that is very culturally rewarding. But everyone else just wants to go out and get drunk,” said Natalie pointedly.

“To be fair, going out and getting drunk on the weekend is pretty Australian,” I said pointedly.

Kit chuckled.

“It’s not just me. Jenna wants to as well,” she said.

“Jenna?” I asked in confusion.

“Richard’s girlfriend,” she explained.

Oh, she meant Jenna Louise Coleman; I knew her vaguely from my friends who are obsessed with Doctor Who.

“Who’s talking about my girlfriend?” asked Richard looking over the top of a child’s head at us.

“We are. Trying to figure out what we are going to do this weekend,” said Natalie.

“I thought the general consensus was we were going out partying,” said Harry as he made a growling face, holding a plush Dragon.

Natalie rolled her eyes and turned to me, “What are you doing this weekend?” she demanded, “All we got from the other ward was to go drink beer”

“Wait are you even old enough to drink beer?” asked Harry, looking over at me.

“Yes,” I said, poking my tongue out at him playfully. He laughed.

“Well, my friend and I were actually planning to go watch my cousin play Football,” I said with a shrug.

“Football like the American’s?” asked Kit.

“No, they have their own kind of football here,” said Richard.

I nodded, “It’s our national sport. You can’t get much more Australian than going to the football on the weekend, drinking a beer and eating a meat pie”

“Well, it’s settled. That’s what we are doing,” said Natalie firmly.

“Nat, you might want to ask if we’re allowed to come,” said Kit quietly.

I frowned in confusion, failing to keep track of the conversation and what Paddington and Peaches were doing.

“Oh, sorry,” she said in shock before she turned to me, “Can we tag along with you and your friend to the football match this weekend?” she asked.

I blinked in shock, unsure that I really heard what I thought I heard. There was an awkward silence as they all sat staring at me, waiting for my answer.

“Yeah, sure” I said, my voice going unreasonably high and squeaky.

“Great,” beamed Natalie, “What do we wear?” she demanded.

“Ah…” I said as my brain desperately tried to play catch up.

Had I just agreed to go to the Football with the Game of Thrones actors? From the way Natalie was firing questions at me, apparently I had.

 


	2. Chapter 2

“You did what?” demanded my best friend TJ as she leaned against the reception desk.

I was currently working at my part-time job as a receptionist at a Medical Clinic. I was finishing up my shift for the day when TJ had dropped by to drive me home; I’d waited until the waiting room was empty before I told her about our football guests.

“They just want to come and hang out, it’s no big deal,” I shrugged, desperately trying to play off just how nervous I was.

“Hell yeah, it’s a big deal! Do you realize I now have a shot at scoring with the King of the North?” she demanded excitedly, flicking her blonde curls over her shoulder.

“He’s bringing his girlfriend,” I said pointedly as I stapled a doctor’s notes to a patient file.

“Damn it!” she sighed, “What about Jon Snow? He single?” she asked.

A sense of dread flooded me. Few men were able to resist the charms of TJ Hooker  and for some reason I didn’t quite understand, I didn’t want Kit to be one of them. He had been so nice to me yesterday, I mean, he hadn’t gone out of his way to be nice to me or anything, but I still felt somewhat protective over him. TJ could be quite manipulative when she wanted to be and I wanted to steer Kit away from that.

“You know, I don’t know,” I said lightly, focusing on my task a little too intently.

“Well, whatever” she sighed, as she leaned against the desk again, “I’m sure Andre will love the extra attention”

I had completely forgotten about Andre! The whole reason I was going to watch the Football in the first place, “Do you think he’ll be ok with it?” I asked in concern.

“Are you kidding me? Natalie Dormer is coming to watch him play football! I’ll be surprised if half the team doesn’t rip off their shirts to impress her,” she said simply.

That was true, Natalie was a babe. I doubted anyone would object, but it suddenly felt as if I was in over my head. I didn’t have that many friends outside of my family. To be taking a group of people to a Football game was a bit of a stretch for me, let alone ones with such a high profile.

“So, what time are we meeting them and where?” asked TJ.

“I don’t know yet, I told Natalie I’d text her,” I shrugged.

“Wait, you have Natalie Dormer’s phone number?” she demanded.

I jumped at the sudden loudness in her voice, “Yes…” I said, trailing off as I was unable to see the significance.

“That means they have officially deemed you not a whack job!” she all but screamed. 

“They may change their minds once they meet you,” I said pointedly.

“This is going to be so cool!” she said excitedly.

I watched her jump up and down with excitement. I was glad that I didn’t mention that I had actually given my number to all of them so they could text me with any questions they had about our outing this weekend.

…

I’d never agonized so much about what I was going to wear to the Football in my entire life. I wanted to at least look nice when hanging out with a bunch of attractive people, b ut I had to think of functionality as well, being at the Football meant I would be outside so I had to be warm, but also comfortable. Deciding I was overthinking it just a little too much, I settled on my outfit from the day before; maroon jeans with brown boots. A brown, red and beige woolen jumper with a maroon and white scarf. I settled on my brown and white bag for my oxygen tank to match my boots. Deciding my hair was being utterly impossible I left it out, brushing it through four times out of paranoia.

If I thought I was over thinking things, it was nothing compared to TJ. She was sending me messages at least every twenty minutes of different outfits she was considering. She  eventually settled on tight jeans and a leather jacket. I pointed out that she would most likely freeze in the weather but she said with a grim face, “sacrifices must be made.”

She was busy practicing how to stay calm when meeting the group while I made a bunch of snacks to take with us to the Football. I, of course, packed the traditional snacks of chips, biscuits and dip, but I wanted to add a personal touch to it, so I cut up some cheese and meat that people could also put onto their crackers. I made sure I had enough oxygen - twelve hours’ worth - for the outing and we were ready to go.

Catching the train to the Melbourne Cricket Ground, TJ and I stood outside, waiting. Eventually I got a call from Natalie, “This place is so big! Where the hell are you?” she asked.

“Nice to hear from you too,” I laughed.

She laughed back, “Seriously though, where are you I’m freezing my ass off walking around out here.”

“We’re by gate five, look for one of the big lights,” I advised.

“Ah, right, I see you. Oh, I like that jumper,” she said.

I looked around wildly and saw Natalie, Harry, Kit, Richard and Jenna Louise Coleman all rugged up in thick jackets, walking towards us. Natalie looked more beautiful than anyone wearing a beanie should. Richard wore a fashionable coat that I was pretty sure was worth more than my rent. Harry was the most casually dressed out of all of them in jeans and a thick jacket. And Jenna somehow made the oversized coat she wore look fashionable instead of like a tent as I assumed it would have looked on me.

“I thought they’d be taller,” said TJ suddenly.

I ignored her as Natalie pulled me in for a hug, “Hey, Beezus,” she smiled. I patted her back awkwardly before she broke away and I greeted the rest of the group, “You found the place alright?” I asked.

“Oh, yeah, it was fine,” said Harry flippantly, “Froze half way to death, but it was fine.”

I laughed, “You guys are from England, I would have thought this would be nothing.”

“It’s technically our summer right now,” said Jenna pointedly.

I smiled at her, I wasn’t a fan of Doctor Who, but I knew of her. I was surprised by how tanned she was, she looked paler on television. She was still very beautiful though, especially with the small dimples in her cheeks when she smiled. She too had perfect skin just like Natalie.

What was with that?

TJ then cleared her throat loudly in way of wanting me to introduce her.

“Everyone, this is my friend TJ, she already knows all of your names,” I said with a roll of my eyes.

Greeting and exchanges were made, Harry a little too enthusiastically. Kit not so much… I didn’t ponder as to why that made me happy as we headed inside. I handed out the tickets and after going through the gate we took our seats. Richard and Jenna sat together, then Harry and TJ. I sat between Natalie and Kit.

“I tried to read up on the rules of this game but it all got a bit confusing,” said Kit as the player ran onto the field and began to warm up.

“Politics has ruined the game. Like most things,” I said as I clapped my hands.

“It’s not about watching the game, Kit, it’s about being in the Australian environment,” said Natalie as she clapped and cheered.

I turned my attention to Kit, “Do you want me to explain some of it to you?” I asked.

“Please,” he smiled.

I then went about explaining what I could of the Football game to Kit, happy to be talking about a subject I knew so I didn’t embarrass myself with my babbling, but it turned our Richard and Jenna were listening as well.

“All I need to know is which team we are cheering for,” said Richard pointedly.

I smiled, “We’re cheering for the ones in the black and white shirts. That’s the team my cousin  is on,” I explained.

“Oh, there’s the coin toss,” called TJ, pointing to the field, “We’re kicking right,” she said.

The siren blared and the game began. I don’t think anyone really had a grasp on the game. I tried to explain what I could, but even I was getting confused by some of the rulings called by the referee. Eventually we just began talking amongst ourselves.

“So… what do you think of Australia so far?” I asked searching for another topic of conversation so I would not be sitting next to Kit with nothing to say. 

“Beautiful country. Very laid back,” he said.

“Is that a euphemism for boring?” I teased.

“No,” he said, a smile teasing at the corner of his mouth, “just not a lot seems to bother the people here.”

“You’ll find we’re all just too lazy to care,” I replied.

He smiled, a goal was kicked and the group clapped along with half of the crowd.

“I imagine you must travel a lot with your work,” I observed.

“Yeah, it’s one of the best parts,” he said.

“What’s the best place you’ve seen?” I asked.

“Iceland. It’s beautiful,” he smiled.

“But cold. Don’t you wish you could film in some nice warm place like Morocco or Croatia?” I asked curiously, partly due to my lung condition made breathing in the cold particularly difficult, so I tried to avoid it at all costs. On days like today I had to be well padded with clothing or my extremities would turn blue.

“No. I wouldn’t give up Iceland for the world. I’ve seen glaciers that no one has ever seen before or will again. I can put up with a little cold for that,” he said meaningfully .

“Are there any places you want to see that you haven’t yet?” I asked.

“Well Australia was one.”

“Is it everything you hoped? Or have we let you down?” I asked, anxious to see what he thought of the country I called home.

He laughed, “No. I’ve enjoyed my time here. I’d like to come back.”

“Speak for yourself,” said Jenna, “I found a spider in my room last night bigger than my head! It was all brown and gross! I made Rich throw it over the balcony.”

“That was probably a Huntsmen spider. They don’t have any venom,” I advised her, “But they do like to drink the water out of your eyes when you’re sleeping. I woke up with one on my face once,” I said.

She went white, “Oh my god! Don’t tell me that! How am I supposed to get to sleep tonight?” she asked. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” said Richard, wrapping his arms around his girlfriend.

“Oh, please, you were probably just as scared!” teased TJ.

I eyed her with worry, unsure if she was on familiar enough terms with the group to tease them. Richard took it in his stride, though.

“Was not! I’m the King of the North. Spider’s do not frighten me,” he said.

“No, you’re just afraid of heights,” said Natalie.

Richard’s face fell, “Am not,” he said seriously.

“Oh, yes, you are,” she teased, “you were shaking like a leaf when we were climbing that bridge.”

“Was not! It was windy,” he defended.

“You looked like you might cry,” added Harry.

“It was windy! I had wind in my eyes!”

I turned to Kit with a smile, enjoying listening to the banter.

“What about you?” asked Kit, “Where would you like to go?” he asked.

I opened my mouth to answer but TJ answered for me.

“Ireland,” she called, before she looked down at me, “We’re going there in August,” she explained.

“And England,” I added.

“You should catch up with Kit while you’re there,” said Natalie, “That’s about the time your filming in Belfast isn’t it?” she asked.

“Yeah, it is” he agreed.

“Well there you go, you can show her around Belfast like she showed us around Melbourne,” she said as she stared out at the field, eating a biscuit with c heese.

“I don’t think I’ve really showed you around Melbourne. I’ve just taken you to a Football game,” I said pointedly.

“Oh, yeah, that reminds me, what are you doing tomorrow?” she asked turning to look at me.

“Nothing,” I said carefully.

“You want to show us around Melbourne?” she asked happily.

“Sure,” I said with a shrug, “I’m not sure what I can show you, but I’ll try and think of something.”

“Excellent,” she smiled as she popped the rest of the biscuit in her mouth.

Making sure the rest of the group was distracted I turned back to Kit, “You don’t have to show me around Belfast. I’m happy to show you guys around Melbourne,” I explained.

I didn’t want Kit to feel obligated to spend any time with me. It had never even occurred to me that my friendship with the Game of Thrones cast might go beyond this weekend. I was happy to take whatever time I could get as I enjoyed all of their company.

“No, I’d be happy to,” said Kit with a smile, “it’s only fair.”

Fair. I lingered on that word for a moment. It wasn’t because he wanted to spend time with me, but because he felt obligated to. Because it was fair. I tried not to let my disappointment show.

“So, why do you want to see Ireland?” he asked curiously.

“I like the history. I like the culture-” I began but TJ interrupted me.

“She likes the dancing!” she called.

Kit frowned in confusion, “The dancing?” he asked curiously.

“Beezus is an internationally ranked Irish Dancer,” said TJ.

“Really?” he asked turning to look at me, “That’s cool.”

“Not really,” I shrugged bashfully, feeling my cheeks heat up.

“What rank were you?” asked Harry curiously.

“I haven’t done it in years. I’m not sure my ranking still stands,” I said feeling my cheeks heat up.

“She was ranked top ten in the world. Top three in Australia,” said TJ.

“Wow, that’s amazing!” said Jenna.

“Thank you,” I smiled forcefully, “But I can’t do it anymore,” I added, hoping the conversation would get dropped.

TJ seemed to get the hint before anyone else, “I think it’s time for some meat pies. Any of you guys had a meat pie?” she asked loudly.

Natalie and TJ then proceeded to go and buy some pies, I watched as Natalie was stopped by a stranger, she smiled and greeted them and then posed for a photo. I was surprised no one had noticed the cast before now. I guess people watching the Football weren’t really thinking about the mythical Kingdom of Westeros and the characters that dwelled there, let alone able to make the connection that the actors were sitting amongst them.

I watched as Kit bit into his meat pie, getting gravy and sauce all over his mouth, I laughed.

“That’s not too bad,” he said as he wiped his mouth, chewing thoughtfully.

“Reminds me a little of Shepard’s Pie,” said Harry.

I took a dainty little bite of my pie and chewed desperately trying to get an appetite that my new medication had killed. I wasn’t hungry, but I forced the pie down. My mistake as my stomach churned and I made my way to the bathroom afraid I would throw up.

I didn’t get that far, I ended up with my head in a bin. I was just thankful no one I knew was around to see me. Fixing myself up as best I could to show no signs of the strain that vomiting had taken on me.

As I made my way back to my seat I squeezed past Kit then stumbled backwards as my legs got caught in my oxygen tubes. I fell backwards right into Kit’s lap.

“Sorry!” I blushed instantly trying to stand up, but the crook of my knees were slung over his, knocking my feet off the ground. My back rested on his other knee.

“Are you alright?” asked Kit as he helped to set me upright.

“Yeah, just got caught,” I blushed keeping my eyes away from his as I desperately tried to untangle the tubes around my legs.

“Stay still you two I want a photo!” called TJ.

Kit helped to right me so I was sitting on only one of his knees, “Thanks,” I muttered.

“Smile!” called TJ as she pointed her phone at us.

I attempted to smile but was still feeling a little out of breath which wasn’t helped as Kit wrapped his arms around my middle to pose for the photo. I focused on breathing, gingerly placing my hands over his as the tips of my toes barely touched the ground.

TJ snapped the photo and I quickly slid off Kit’s lap and sat down in my own chair, hoping no one could see the blush that crept onto my cheeks. 

“Aw, that’s cute, send that to me,” said Natalie as she looked over TJ’s shoulder at her phone.

The game played on and in the end Andre’s side won. I went down to the edge of the field, carrying my tank after me as the players walked past, high fiving the spectators.

When Andre saw me, he smiled and pulled me in for a sweaty hug.

“You smell!” I complained.

“You would too if you’d been running as much as I have,” he smiled as he released me.

“If I ran as much as you did I’d be dead,” I teased.

He laughed, “Enjoy the game?”

“Yep”

“I’ll see you next Sunday for Lunch at Grandma’s,” he called.

I waved before I turned around and grabbed my oxygen tank, making my way slowly up the steps.

TJ and I said our goodbye’s to the cast, I got a hug from each person which surprised me a little, except Kit.

We all arranged to meet at eleven o’clock tomorrow for a tour around Melbourne before we went our separate ways.

“Kit and you seemed to be quite cozy,” commented TJ as we sat on the train home.

“What do you mean cozy?” I asked.

“Well the two of you barely spoke to anyone else all day,” she said pointedly.

“I was explaining the game to him,” I explained. She scoffed.

I ignored her as my phone buzzed, alerting me that I would run out of oxygen in an hour, I still had plenty of time to get home.

“Interestingly enough he asked about Andrea when you hugged him,” she said lightly.

I snapped my head to look at her, “He did what?”

“He asked if he was your boyfriend. I told him you didn’t have one,” she said simply, deliberately keeping her voice light.

I eyed her suspiciously, “Your making that up,” I accused.

“Am not,” she said simply, “Ask Natalie, she heard.” 

I frowned in thought, “Why would he care if I had a boyfriend?”

“Why do you think dumbass? Because he likes you,” she said simply, pinching my shoulder.

“Does not,” I said automatically, “Why on earth would he like me?”

“Beats me! He had all of this sitting near him,” she said, gesturing to her voluptuous body, “yet he never took his eyes off you.”

I shook my head, not daring to believe her, “He probably just feels sorry for me,” I reasoned.

“Probably,” she said, sarcastically. I rolled my eyes at her. “I suppose he’ll continue to feel sorry for you tomorrow as well. And in August when you see him again,” she added. 

I ignored her and stared at my phone.

“If you want I can send that picture to you,” she offered.

“No, thank you,” I said stubbornly.

“Got any idea where you’re going to take them tomorrow?” she asked curiously.

“Absolutely no idea,” I said, simply.

“Do you want me to come?” she asked.

I turned to look at her incredulously, “Of course you’re coming. Why an earth wouldn’t you come?”

“Well, they didn’t ask me or even us to show them around Melbourne, they asked you,” she said pointedly, “You don’t see it but all of them quite like you,” she smiled.

“Please” I scoffed, “They’ve known me five seconds longer than they’ve known you.”

“Well, they probably like me too,” she smiled.

I shoved her shoulder, “Come on, it’s our stop and I want to get home before I start turning blue,” I said as I came to a stand, stepping off the train as the doors opened, TJ followed behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Australian Football; its a rite of passage and a perfect breeding ground for international romance.  
> I hope you enjoyed learning a little bit more about Beezus. To find out more about the story and see all the little extras that go with it, check out my tumblr: http://teaenthusiast65.tumblr.com/


	3. Chapter 3

For my tour around Melbourne I didn’t want to do the cliché things of going to the land marks or any sort of tourist hotspots, really. I decided to show the group my favorite things in Melbourne; the art museums, the architecture, the graffiti art in the alleyways and walking along the Yarra River. Jenna and Harry had decided to livetweet the entire day, constantly taking pictures and uploading them to their Instagram. I mostly took the photos of Jenna standing and looking at the architecture, but when we got to the graffiti everyone had to do a model pose in front of the art work.

Natalie made a growling face which looked great with a filter I put on to capture the photo. Jenna did a Charlie’s Angels gun pose, which was quite funny. Harry did the ‘thinker’ pose, which literally had me bent over laughing.  Richard and Kit were very unoriginal in simply doing a back-to-back pose, but it looked great anyway. The two of them could look great doing anything, quite frankly, even if it was just standing next to each other.

“No way! Your stupid photo instantly got a hundred likes,” I said as I looked over Jenna’s shoulder as she uploaded the photos onto the internet.

“That’s because we’re insanely good-looking,” said Richard, smiling cheekily.

“Yes, I have a huge man-crush on Rich,” smiled Kit.

“Get in line!” said Harry. I laughed. 

“Come on, Beezus, your turn.” smiled Jenna as she pointed her phone at the wall.

“You don’t need to do me,” I said waving her away, “I’m not famous, no one care’s about my picture.”

“Your part of the group, come on.” said Natalie.

Rolling my eyes I went and stood in front of the graffiti wall.

“Do something funny!” commanded Jenna as she pointed her camera at me.

Rolling my eyes, I leaned against the handle of my oxygen tank and kicked my foot up behind me, pouting my lips dramatically.

“Not nearly funny enough,” commented Harry.

“Hang on.” called Richard before he came over to me.

I frowned in confusion for a moment before he  bend down and picked me up off the ground as if I weighed nothing at all, throwing me over his shoulder. I laughed like a maniac as Jenna, Natalie and Harry began snapping pictures. Kit just stood laughing in amusement. 

I was thoroughly out of breath from laughing by the time Richard put me back down on the ground.

“Come on, let’s get a group shot.” called Jenna.

We all crowded around Jenna’s as she held her phone out in front of her and quickly snapped a picture of all of us.

“Can you send that to me Jenna?” I asked.

“Sure.” she smiled.

“Alright, enough playing paparazzi you too,” said Natalie, “Let’s get some food.”

I’d specially planned for where we would have lunch, at my favorite cafe; Koko Black.

Koko Black was a small little café that specialized in chocolate creations. It wasn’t on any main roads and was tucked away in one of the arcades so it was sort of like a secret that I was letting the crew in on.

Kit carried my tank up the narrow flight of stairs as we sat in the upstairs parlor. Seeing as there was an even number of couples, we decided to get three tasting platters of chocolate creations between the six of us. Jenna and Rich shared one, Harry and Natalie the other, then Kit and I with the other.

What TJ had said about Kit possibly liking me sat with me the entire day. It had me on edge whenever he came near, which wasn’t often as I was acting as tour guide I really paid attention to the whole group, though I always kept Kit in my peripheral vision.

At the Football Natalie had asked what the night life was like, a topic I felt TJ was far better equipped to handle than me, so we had agreed that after a day spent wandering around Melbourne we would go our separate ways to get changed, or in my case, sleep, before going out clubbing for the night.

I’d met the group at eleven in the morning and left them at three in the afternoon, even though that was only four hours, I was absolutely exhausted and slept for almost that long at home before TJ let herself into my apartment and shook me awake.

“Come on you! Get up! We have to get you looking good for clubbing tonight.” she said as she pulled the quilt away from me, the icy air working to wake me up.

“Why?” I groaned as I sat up, my head felt especially heavy as I breathed in the oxygen from my tank deeply.

“So Kit will hook up with you tonight.” she replied simply as she began going through my closet.

“What?” I asked in confusion.

“Natalie and Jenna are in agreement, if you look stunning tonight, Kit’s bound to make a move,” she said simply as she began throwing clothes at me.

“But I don’t want him to make a move,” I said simply as I dodged a pair of pants she had thrown.

“Of course you do! He’s gorgeous and you like him,” she said dismissively as she turned back to me holding a top.

“TJ, for the last time, the guy does not like me.” I sighed.

“Does too,” she replied.

“Does not!” I argued.

“Does too!”

“Does not!”

“Does too times infinity!” she countered.

“What are we children?” I replied sarcastically.

She shrugged and began sorting through the clothes she had thrown onto my bed.

“Even if he does-” I began.

“He does,” she interrupted.

“He doesn’t,” I replied.

“He does!”

“He doesn’t!” I said firmly, waiting for her to contradict me again.

She simply smiled and mouthed the words ‘he does’

I rolled my eyes, “That doesn’t mean anything can come of it”

“Why not?” she asked as she sat down on the bed.

“Well apart from all the obvious reasons,” I began.

“Let’s not list your obvious reasons which you know I think are irrelevant.” she interrupted.

I pursed my lips in annoyance, “Fine,” I snapped, “But apart from those obvious reasons which are completely valid, he’s a celebrity. Celebrities don’t get with dying girls who need a lung transplant.”

“Fine.” said TJ.

I eyed her in suspicion; she was giving up far too easily.

“Let’s make you look good so that some random, non-celebrity will hit on you and you can get laid tonight,” she smiled.

“TJ,” I sighed already feeling exhausted.

“Please!” she pleaded, “You know I love playing dress up on you! You’re like my own personal doll,” she smiled, practically bouncing on the end of my bed.

“There’s a compliment in there somewhere,” I said sarcastically.

She beamed and continued to bounce.

“By ‘look good’ do you mean slutty or will you leave me with a shred of dignity?” I asked.

“No dignity whatsoever! We’re going clubbing!” she said pointedly, “Come on! It’ll be fun,”

“I really don’t see how you dressing me up as jail bait will be fun,” I replied.

“Oh shut up and get out of bed!” she snapped, seeming to get fed up as she stood up and began sorting through my clothes.

Knowing I wasn’t going to win the argument I got up and let her play dress-up with me. Under sufferance, of course.

By the time TJ was done we had compromised on a short dark purple dress (TJ’s choice) and a black cardigan with bright pink flowers embroidered on the front (my choice). The shoes were a bit of an issue, TJ wanted heels and I wanted practicality for a long night, so we compromised on black flats.

Hair and makeup was another story, I had no say in that, whatsoever. She fixed my hair so it split into two large curls either side of my face, my fringe being swept to one side slightly. My make-up, after much pleading on my part, was subtle, though she had put lip-gloss on me the same hot pink as the flowers on my cardigan. 

After that I readied my oxygen tank and we were ready to go.

TJ, of course, looked gorgeous in a halter neck red top, tight jeans and bright red lipstick to match her top and her long blond hair fell down her back in beautiful waves. It was very hard for me to have confidence around TJ. I still looked like a fourteen year old while she looked like a Goddess sent to torture me. This was a feeling that didn’t improve when I saw both Natalie and Jenna looking absolutely gorgeous in dresses I was sure were designer.

“I hate you both.” I pouted.

“Aw,” cooed Jenna.

“Next time we go out, we will both do you up,” said Natalie, throwing her arm around me as we walked.

“You’ll have to ask TJ if she is willing to share her life sized doll,” I said sarcastically.

“No way! I’m not sharing,” she joked.

“Are you guys talking about blow up dolls?” asked Harry as we walked.

The boys, by design or coincidence had all ended up wearing black. I tried to keep my eyes off Kit, but I couldn’t help but notice how attractive he looked in his black shirt and dark jeans. Black really was a great color on him.

TJ chose one of her favorite clubs, the bouncer recognized Richard, Kit and Natalie and snapped a picture with them before letting us all in.

The club was bathed in a red light, sweaty bodies bouncing around on the dance floor to a techno song I didn’t know. I immediately searched for a free lounge, already feeling out of breath from breathing in the smoke from the dry ice machine. I coughed violently and gripped the handle of my oxygen cart for a moment as the cough’s racked my body.

“Are you alright?” said Kit into my ear, placing a concerned hand on my back.

I nodded as I sucked in a ragged breath, covering my mouth as I coughed again, “I’m just going to go and sit down,” I shouted, fighting to be heard over the music.       

Kit nodded, keeping his hand on my back as we walked towards the stairs.

“Hey, Rich! Get me a beer!” he called before he turned back to me, “You want anything?”

“Just a water, please.” I said, feeling embarrassed about my lack of alcohol tolerance, one that I didn’t want to put to the test around Kit.

Due to my condition, it didn’t take much to get me drunk, an embarrassing enough trait to have, but I also had the tendency to blurt out revealing facts about myself when I was drunk.  I would be absolutely mortified to reveal to Kit that I had a crush on him.

Climbing up the stairs I made to grab my oxygen tank, but Kit grabbed it before I could and hauled it up the stairs after me. Now that we were a little way away from the dancefloor, we could speak at a reasonable, yet still loud volume, “You don’t have to do that,” I said, I didn’t want him thinking I was some fragile doll that couldn’t handle hauling around her own stuff, “I can handle it.”

“I know,” he said simply, “I’m just helping. You’re so tiny, half the time I’m afraid you’ll topple over.” he smiled.

I smiled back, “I’m not as fragile as I look,” I said pointedly as I plopped myself down onto the sofa, he sat down next to me.

“So, can you get, like, high on this thing?” he asked as he placed my oxygen tank between us, “You know, like Darth Vader breathing?”

“No,” I laughed.

“I was surprised by how light it is,” he explained.

“It’s just air in a container,” I explained.

“Doesn’t it dry your nose out?” he asked.

“A little,” I shrugged, suddenly an idea occurred to me, “You want to try?”

“Sure,” he smiled, “Could use a little extra air.”

I smiled, trying to hide my shock, I had been almost certain that he wouldn’t accept as most people got squeamish when it came to those sort of thing. As I unwound the tubes from my ears, I leaned forward and paced them over Kit’s ears gently, brushing aside his curly hair slightly. I resisted the urge to run my hands through his hair as I set about positioning the nasal prongs up to his nose.

Kit sat for a moment, “It tickles,” he said touching the tube gently.

“You get used to it,” I said.

Kit turned to look at me, blinking several times, “You look different without it on,” he observed.

“Less like a walking zombie?” I joked.

“No, you can just see more of your face. More like an uninterrupted view,” he said as he continued to stare at me.

I wasn’t a good breather normally but it felt as if there was a particular lack of oxygen around as we stared at one another. 

Suddenly, everyone else joined us, “Heyo!” cried Harry as he sat down.

“Hope we’re not interrupting anything,” said Natalie slyly.

“Hey, that looks good on you, Kit,” said Richard, as he handed him a glass of beer.

“Yes, playing a cancer riddled patient is definitely in your future,” said Harry as he sat down.

“Harry!” chastised Jenna.

“Oh, god was that insensitive?” he asked frantically, looking at me in concern.

I laughed, “Its ok. I don’t have cancer,” I said simply.

“You’re still an insensitive twat,” said Jenna pointedly.

“Guilty,” said Harry simply, lifting his glass in the air in a toast before he took a large drink.

“I have to get a photo of this!” cried TJ, “Kit, you look so funny!”

“Easy, that’s my favorite accessory you’re bagging,” I said pointedly.

Kit threw his arm around me and pouted dramatically for the camera, “Do I look like a Keith Richards?” he asked. I burst out laughing as TJ snapped the picture.

Leaning forward I unwound the tubes from his ears and placed them easily over mine, positioning the nasal prongs first time, which was easy after so many months of practice. I took a deep breath, smiling at the easy access of air; I grabbed my glass of water from the table and took a dainty sip as I leaned back on the couch again.

It was then I realized that Kit’s arm was still around the back of the couch and that my shoulder fit perfectly in the crook of his shoulder and arm. I hadn’t realized we were sitting so close! Part of me wanted to move away, another part of me wanted to snuggle in deeper. I glanced up at him curiously; he was looking the other way, talking to Richard. He didn’t even seem to notice how close we were sitting or if he did notice, he didn’t seem to care. Torn by indecision and confused if I should be flattered or offended that he didn’t notice how close we were, I decided to just stay put.

The night progressed on as any night in a club did; TJ pressured everyone into doing a shot. I got out easy in only having to do one, though Richard, Harry and Natalie all got conned in to doing a second and in Harry’s case, a third.

Jenna dragged Richard out onto the dance floor and TJ grabbed Harry and Natalie, joining them.

“You don’t want to go?” asked Kit, nodding his head towards the dance floor.

I shook my head, “I’m a very talented head dancer,” I said before I proceeded to bop my head from side to side, he smiled, “But, if you want to go out there and do your thang, be my guest.”

He shook his head, “Not much of a dancer,”

We sat in silence for a moment just listening to the music, Kit’s arm slid off the back of the couch and draped over my shoulders as he subtly pulled me closer. Instinctively I rested my head against his collarbone. I tried not to dwell on how comforting it was to have Kit’s arm around me or how my head rested perfectly against his chest. I tried not to enjoy it too much when Kit rested his cheek against the top of my head.

Neither of us said anything or even acknowledged our intimate position as we sat listening to music. I desperately wanted to look up at him, ask what this all meant but I once again stayed put, fearing I was reading too much into what could simply be a comfortable position between two friends.

We were still sitting in that position when Richard and Jenna came back.

“Beezus, Richard is bailing! Come dance with me,” complained Jenna as Richard sat down next to Kit.

Not able to keep my mind from going into overdrive, I decided it was best to get out of the situation. 

Sighing, I sat up out of Kit’s embrace; I let Jenna haul me to my feet before she dragged me out onto the dance floor with Natalie, TJ and Harry.

Looking good whilst dancing was practically impossible while having an oxygen tank trailing after you, so I simply embraced my awkwardness and danced a bunch of geeky Dad moves.

Natalie and Jenna burst out laughing as we all continued to dance. But I could only dance for so long before I began to grow tired. I signaled to TJ I was going to go sit down and she nodded, following me back to the couch.

I threw myself down onto the couch, exhausted, before I grabbed my glass of water and gulped down a few needed mouthfuls. Jenna, Natalie and Harry joined us almost immediately. I didn’t really follow the conversation as I focused on breathing but it was eventually decided to go back to Jenna and Richard’s hotel room (as it was the biggest) and drink there.

After a quick booze run, in which I was bullied into buying a bottle of wine by TJ so I could participate in the drinking, we were all sitting in the lounge room of the ridiculously nice hotel room playing the drinking game ‘Never Have I Ever’.

“Never have I ever gotten drunk on a plane,” said Jenna.

Kit and TJ drank.

“I was bored.” TJ explained.

“I’m afraid of flying, getting drunk is the only way I can get through it,” said Kit.

“Never have I ever… gotten a tattoo,” said Harry. 

Natalie, TJ and I all drank.

“Show us!” demanded Jenna.

Natalie showed us the line from a poem on her arm. TJ stood up and lifted the back of her shirt, showing the tribal symbol she had on her lower back.

“Come on Beezus, your turn,” said Richard.

I squirmed uncomfortably; I loved my tattoo but it was quite personal and something that people didn’t really understand upon seeing it. Which made me hesitant to show it off.

“Come on, just do it,” said TJ, rolling her eyes.

“I have a Ninja Turtles tattoo,” I said.

Everyone laughed like I knew they would.

“Where?” asked Kit, turning to look at me curiously. 

“On my shoulder,” I said simply.

“Can we see? Or are you afraid to show off the mosquito bites?” asked Harry wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“You wish!” I teased.

“Alright, enough of this, Iet’s play something else,” said Richard setting his drink aside.

“You just don’t want to play because you’ve drank too much,” teased TJ.

“Bite me,” he replied.

“So, what are you guys planning to do on your trip in August?” asked Jenna curiously.

“Well, we’re spending a little time in England, I have a job trial there” I explained.

“Job trial for what?” asked Kit curiously.

“An Instructor at an Irish Dancing School,” I explained, “I’ve always wanted to see Ireland and England, so with the job opportunity I thought I might as well kill two birds with one stone,”

“Do you think you’ll get it?” he asked, seeming far to intent on my answer.

“Hard to say,” I shrugged, eying him curiously, why was he so interested?, “But if it works out I’m hoping to live in London next year and go traveling over Europe on my days off,” I smiled, “That’s the dream”

“It’s a good dream,” said Jenna firmly.

“So, we could be seeing a lot more of you,” said Natalie pointedly.

“Well, if it works out, yes,” I said carefully, wondering why on earth she was smiling so mischievously, “Otherwise TJ and I are only over there for four months,” I said.

“Which will be epic!” said TJ loudly, “I plan to drink my way through London,”

“You wouldn’t be the first,” commented Richard.

“But I will certainly be the best looking,” she smiled.

“You can get drunk anywhere. Why do you have to do it when we’re going to be in London? It’s such a waste!” I chastised.

“No, it isn’t! It’s practically a pre-requisite when you’re an Australian in England” she defended.

As she was speaking I noticed Kit and Natalie seeming to have a silent conversation in which Kit seemed to be frustrated and loosing.

Natalie smiled mischievously before she turned back to the group, “Let’s play Poker,” she announced.

“Yeah, I saw you on Celebrity Poker, I don’t feel like losing all my money tonight,” said Harry pointedly.

“We could play strip poker,” said TJ suddenly.

Everyone in the room turned to look at her curiously.

“Looser has to do a Nude Run,” she grinned wickedly.

An awkward silence stretched around the room and I found myself mentally cursing TJ to the fiery pits of hell. She of all people knew how self-conscious I was about my sickly body and she somehow thought I would be comfortable showing it in front of a bunch of borderline perfect actors? I couldn’t help but glance at Kit, anxious as to what he would think of my body if he was to see it. Would he think that it was attractive? Or would he look at my surgical scars? My lack of appealing curves?

“I’m in,” said Jenna suddenly, shrugging her shoulders before she turned to Richard expectantly.

“Me too,” he said a little too enthusiastically.

One by one everyone agreed until I was sitting there with my oxygen tank feeling like a fourteen year old succumbing to peer pressure. Again. 

“Fine,” I said, rolling my eyes.

Just as I began fretting about how many layers of clothing I had on and people seeing me naked, I realized that this was a two way street. I could possibly be seeing Kit naked tonight.


	4. Chapter 4

I barely had time to ponder the possibilities of seeing Kit shirtless when the cards were dealt and the game began. Pretty soon I lost my shoes, my cardigan… by the time the pizza arrived I was sitting in nothing but my pale pink bra and bright green underwear and white socks. 

At first I felt self-conscious of my frail body. My delicate frame did not lend itself to any kind of sexual nature; I didn’t have a decent rack or booty to save myself. I fretted as to what the others in the room might be thinking. Particularly the males. And by males I meant Kit.

But then I realized with the likes of Natalie sitting in her underwear and shirt, TJ in her jeans and bra, no one would be looking at me. A point that was perfectly made to me when TJ answered the door to collect the Pizza’s; even though I stood with her, it was her that the delivery boy looked at. She was the cause of his blush and stammering words. Not me.

So I relaxed. Instead of nibbling at my vegetarian Pizza, I went over to Kit, who had an entire meat lovers Pizza to himself and grabbed a slice.

He eyed me for a moment, seeming amused.

“Sup?” I asked through a mouthful of food, amused was definitely not the reaction I wanted when I was standing in my underwear.

“Nothing,” he said with a shake of his head, “It’s just that, very few people can pull off eating Pizza in their underwear,” he explained, his eyes traveling over the length of my body.

I froze under his gaze. Was Kit Harington checking me out? 

I instantly regretted not wearing the matching Victoria Secret underwear I had. Or the fact that I was wearing mismatched underwear and had barbeque sauce on my lips. There was nothing remotely attractive about me in that moment.

Yet the way Kit was looking at me made me feel…sexy. Like I could be worth wanting. That there was nothing wrong with my mucus ridden body that had spent so long betraying me. I suddenly realized that we were alone; everyone else was in the lounge room eating their own Pizza’s.

I couldn’t help but let my eyes quickly run over his exposed chest and the chiseled muscles of his abdomen. I instantly wondered what it would be like to run my hands over his abs when I realized Kit had caught me staring, or more accurately perving.

I smiled sheepishly and went back to chewing my pizza as if nothing had happened.

“So, I was wondering what you’re doing tomorrow night?” he asked curiously.

“Probably nothing, why?” I asked curiously as I took another bite of Pizza, keeping my eyes firmly fixed on his face.

“Well, I was wondering if you wanted to do something,” he said with a shrug.

“Yeah, sure. What did you guys have in mind?” I asked curiously.

“Ah, not everyone, just ah, me.” he said, fixing his gaze on the pizza that he suddenly seemed very focused on, refusing to meet my eyes.

I stopped chewing in shock.

I wasn’t ashamed to admit that in getting to know Kit my crush had developed into something more. A true liking for him as a person, not just for his looks or his profession; but him. But I had never dared believe he saw me as anything else but a sick little girl who was simply showing him and his friends around Melbourne. Never, in my wildest dreams had I thought Kit would feel anything for me. Yet here he was, wanting to spend time with me. Just me. Not the beautiful TJ, or in a group of people as friends might do. Just the two of us. Alone.

I stared at him in shock.  My ‘Deer-In-The-Headlights’ reaction was interrupted by Harry, “Hey you guys ready for next round?” he asked as he rounded the corner into the kitchen.

I jumped slightly and put my head down as embarrassment flooded through me. I quickly went about looking anywhere but Kit as I resumed my chewing. 

“Whoops! Sorry” said Harry, not sounding sorry at all, “Did I interrupt something?” he asked slyly.

“No, we were just making plans for tomorrow,” said Kit simply, as if our awkward silence had no effect on him what so ever.

“We’re starting the next game,” said Harry cheerfully.

“Alright,” said Kit in acknowledgement.

I turned to see Harry grinning from ear to ear, staring at us suggestively before he turned on his heel and walked away.

I cleared my throat, attempting to gain some control over myself and not panic, or read too much into the situation. People who were just friends hung out together all the time and that was obviously what Kit was wanting. Nothing more. Absolutely, nothing more.

“Um, well, I’m working until five, but then we could do something?” I suggested, “Do you want to go out to dinner or something?” I asked.

I instantly cursed myself; why would he want to go out for dinner? That could mean it was a date! Wait, had I just asked Kit Harington out on a date? No! Good god, no! I didn’t want him to think I was interested in him! Of course I was interested in him, but I didn’t want him to know about it!

“Or you could come to my place and I could cook you something,” I said, backpedaling immediately.

Kit smiled, “That sounds great. I’ve been living on take-out for ages,” he said.

I smiled, instantly relieved, “Home cooked meal it is. How are you with public transport?”

“Terrible,”

I laughed, “I’ll come get you. Meet you outside here at five?” I asked.

“Sure,” he smiled.

“Ok,” I said trying to squash the elated feeling I had. I was not positively thrilled to spending more time with Kit. Not in the slightest.

Unsure of what else to do, I smiled awkwardly and made my way back into the lounge room. 

“Hey,” smiled Jenna as I came and took my place next to her. She had managed to only loose a handful of games and was still mostly clothed. Richard on the other hand was down to his underwear, a fact she seemed to be enjoying immensely.

“Hi,” I smiled back, still trying to quiet the frantic beating of my heart.

“Where did you get to?” she asked curiously.

“Oh, um,” I floundered, desperately trying to think of something to say when I realized I still had a piece of pizza in my hand, “Just getting some pizza.” I smiled before I sat down.

The game continued, but I couldn’t stop peeking at Kit. I ended up folding four times in a row just because I couldn’t concentrate.

Kit however hardly even looked at me. He obviously didn’t see asking to spend alone time with me as anything significant, so why should I? I worked very hard on squashing any crazy ideas that my mind kept jumping to.

Eventually Richard lost and was forced to do the nude run.

Getting dressed, we all went outside to the pool.

“Is this really necessary?” he demanded as he kept his hands firmly over his groin, though his backside was still exposed, he jumped from foot to foot, shivering against the cold night air. 

Jenna was beside herself with laughter and I was just trying very hard not to blush.

“Rules are rules!” called Natalie.

Richard groaned before he ran and dived headfirst into the pool.

We all cheered through our laughter.

…

I clock watched the next day at work. Counting down until I would be seeing Kit again. The mindless reception work that normally kept me very occupied just didn’t cut it today.

To say I was nervous was an understatement. In seeing Kit alone, I would have nowhere to hide, no one else to rely on for conversation. I had to go to the bathroom three times to put on deodorant I was sweating so much.

Eventually five o’clock came and I left work to go and meet Kit out front of the hotel. I checked myself in the mirror before I left, attempted to flatten my hair and readjusted my cannula, as if that made it look any better. Giving up on my reflection, I grabbed my oxygen tank and headed outside.

I didn’t tell TJ that Kit was coming over. I had no doubt that she would make the entire affair into something it wasn’t and I was already doing enough of that myself.

It didn’t take me long to spot Kit standing out front of the hotel.

“Hey,” I said, smiling just a little too widely.

“Hey,” he smiled back.

“Ready to go?” I asked.

“Yep,” he said and we began walking towards the train station.

“I’m going to be honest, public transport frightens me,” he said as we waited for the train.

“Why?” I asked curiously, flicking a piece of hair out of my eyes as I looked up at him.

“It’s way too easy to get lost,” he explained.

I chuckled, “Don’t worry. It’s a straight shot from here to my apartment,” I explained.

The conversation flowed easily as we sat on the train. I was surprised at how easily we talked mostly about traveling and what else I was planning to do while I was in Ireland.

“You could come visit the set if you want,” he offered as we began walking home.

“Seriously?” I asked, unable to believe my ears.

“Yeah. I’ll be shooting in Ireland, mostly at the wall sets so while you’re there you should totally come see it,” he said.

“That would be awesome,” I smiled. I may not have been that big of a Game of Thrones fan but I still knew how many people would kill to have the opportunity to do what Kit offered on a whim.

“I’ll set it up with David and Dan,” he smiled back.

We stepped inside my apartment building before I walked down the hall and opened the door to my apartment, “Make yourself at home,” I said, as I waved him inside.

My apartment wasn’t small, but it wasn’t exactly large either. It was about the size of an average Hotel Room. I suddenly felt embarrassed about what Kit would think of my home, what he would think of my belongings.

He walked in and looked around, his eyes settling on my trophy case.

“TJ wasn’t kidding you really are a great dancer,” he said as he peered at my many trophies.

“Was.” I corrected as I went into the kitchen.

“Why’d you give it up?” he asked curiously as he followed me into the kitchen.

“I got too sick to continue.” I said simply.

I hated talking about my dancing. It was something that had once brought me so much joy but now caused me nothing but pain. It was like having a something held just above you and trying to jump to reach it with broken legs. Every time you jumped it hurt a little more and did a little more damage. Making the next time you jumped all the more painful and difficult.  

“That must have been hard,” he said, he voice laced with sympathy.

I shrugged trying to move away from the heavy topic, I didn’t want Kit’s sympathy.

“Ok,” I said loudly, clapping my hands in front of me, “What do you feel like for dinner?” I asked.

“What have you got?” he asked, leaning on my kitchen counter.

I turned to the fridge curiously and peered inside, “Ah, mushrooms, salami, garlic,” I listed before I turned to my freezer and opened the door, “Chicken, stir-fry vegetables and pizza bases,” I said before I shut the door and turned to look at him, “Sorry, I thought I had more food than this,” I apologized.

I didn’t tell him that due to my medication I had hardly any appetite and didn’t tend to eat much nowadays.

“We could have a make your own pizza? Though that doesn’t really class as home-made does it?” I asked.

He laughed, “That sounds great,”

“Ok,” I smiled as I grabbed two frozen pizza’s bases from my freezer, “You’re helping,”

What followed was an hour of us basically pouring the entire contents on my fridge onto two pizza bases. Most of it was thing that could be found on a pizza such as cheese and olives. Some of it was a little weirder, like peas and carrots. And some of it was just plain outrageous, like crushed up corn chips.

I couldn’t remember having so much fun making a meal before, I was often out of breath as Kit and I laughed at our choices in toppings. The two of us were practically giddy by the time we placed them in the oven.

What followed was the two of us sitting on my couch and talking. The time passed incredibly fast and our pizzas were ready in no time at all.

We sat on the floor of my lounge room eating our disgusting pizzas and laughing.

“So how long have you had to wander around with your very cool accessory?” he asked, nodding towards my oxygen tank.

I laughed, “You know if you want one, I recommend getting a type of lung disease, cancer is all the rage but I’m a purist and just went for having an access of mucus on my lungs,” I smiled.

He laughed.

“I’ve had it for almost a year,”

“Any improvement?” he asked curiously as he took a bite of his pizza.

“Not really. Though the amount of guys that are like ‘damn that girl has her own oxygen tank! I got to get me some of that!’ is practically mind boggling” I replied.

He laughed, “I broke my leg a few years ago. I couldn’t stand being in hospital for more than five minutes, I don’t know how you do it,”

“You get used to it. It helps when famous people come and visit,” I said, shoving him lightly.

He shrugged, “I do what I can.”

I smiled in spite of myself.

“I got the feeling you weren’t really into the whole Game of Thrones thing,” he commented.

“I am!” I defended, “Just not as much as everyone else.”

“Ouch,” he said through a mouthful of pizza, “Way to boost the ego there Beatrice,”

I laughed at his use of my real name, “If it makes you feel any better I loved the movie Pompeii you were in,”

“Because I’m shirtless?”

“Well, there was that,” I admitted with a blush that I was certain he saw, “But I really liked the tragic love story. I cried at the end.”

“Really?” he asked, seeming pleased.

“Don’t go getting a big head,” I teased, “I’m a big cry baby.”

“Yeah, you Australian’s are hard to impress. What’s with that?” he asked.

“Well, we literally live in a place filled with the world’s most terrifying animals. A celebrity doesn’t really cut it,” I teased.

“What is a celebrity you would freak out over?” he asked curiously.

“Michael Flatley.” I answered automatically.

“Who?”

I laughed, “Ok, I’ll go a little more mainstream Jen Silva, I cried at her Oscar’s speech,”

“She’s pretty badass,” he smiled.

“Oh my god I totally forgot she was on Thrones. So you like, know her?” I demanded.

“Yeah, she’s really funny and down to earth,” he smiled.

“She’s a Goddess!” I said as I took a bite of my pizza.

“You must really be a big fan!” he teased.

“I may or may not have photo shopped a tiara on her head when she started dating Prince Harry,” I admitted sheepishly.

He laughed, “I’m jealous,”

“Hey I can Photoshop you one too if you want,” I grinned.

“Gee thanks,” he laughed, “What’s another celebrity you’d Geek over? Someone I don’t know,”

“Michael Jackson.”

“Interesting,” he mused, “Do you think he did all those things to those kids?”

“Does it really matter?” I asked, “Whether he did or didn’t, it ruined his reputation. But he was still an amazing dancer.”

“I get the feeling you really miss your dancing.” he observed.

“Yeah.” I sighed, “It’s kind of hard to talk about. I’m bitter.”

“Then why are you trying out for a job as a dance teacher if you can’t stand talking about it?” he asked.

“Well, I’m hoping that I’ll get over myself,” I added, hoping I didn’t sound as petty as I felt, “But I guess I’m going to try and live vicariously through the students,” I added, “That or I will sit there, judging them and feeling slightly superior knowing I was a way better dancer than any of them will ever be.”

We laughed.

“I’d like to see you dance,” he smiled.

“Three day course of steroids and I could probably do about ten minutes,” I smiled back.

He laughed; I guess he didn’t realize I wasn’t kidding.

I watched as Kit pulled off a piece of broccoli from his pizza and ate it. As I stared at him, I couldn’t help but smile. Talking to him was so easy and I found myself forgetting that I had known him for barely a week and that we were all wrong for each other. It was easy to forget that he was a celebrity and I was a dying girl. When it was just the two of us, we were just people and that was an amazing feeling. I had forgotten what it was like to live outside of my illness, not to have it pinning me down with worry or limiting me in some way. With Kit I could momentarily forget and that was the best feeling.

In my mind, what passed over the next few hours would have played out like a montage in a movie with some well-known pop song and overzealous hand gestures and head’s thrown back in laughter. I even taught Kit to moonwalk at one point.

It was past midnight when I finally called Kit a cab, “Text me when you get home. I want to make sure you don’t get lost,”

“Yeah, right. You just want my number,” he teased.

“You caught me,” I relented, “This whole thing has been a ploy so I can get your number and distribute it online for millions of dollars,” I joked, “And here I was thinking I was a criminal mastermind. But you see right through me, don’t you?”

“Only because you’re so pale,” he grinned. 

“That’s rich coming from you pasty!”

We exchanged numbers and he headed out the door to the taxi waiting outside.

After he left I felt positively elated. I couldn’t stop smiling and I couldn’t figure out why.


	5. Chapter 5

I didn’t see Kit or anyone from the Game of Thrones Gang at all for the next few days they were so bogged down with interviews and appearances. Kit and I did text each other though. 

I was sitting with TJ watching a movie when I got a text from him; _Was asked to show off a new skill today. My moonwalk was impressive._

I smiled as I texted back; _You had a wonderful teacher_.

“Who you texting?” asked TJ.

“Kit.” I replied.

Before I could even blink she had snatched my phone and was scrolling through my messages to him.

“What?! You guys don’t even flirt!” she complained, “You just talk about pizza and moonwalking.” she said in disgust.

“Sorry to disappoint,” I said sarcastically.

“You are totally ruining the whole celebrity relationship thing for me,” she pouted, throwing my phone back to me.

“We’re not in a relationship.”

“Fine,” she conceded, “But, he definitely likes you.”

I sighed, “Do we really have to do this again? He’s just a friend. Just like the rest of the gang,”

“Uh huh. Sure,” she said, turning back to the movie.

“Which reminds me,” I began, “Are you free on Tuesday? The group has to wait at the airport for two hours before they catch their flight back home. They wanted to hang,” I said, remembering Natalie’s text from earlier.

I had spent far too long thinking on the fact that it had been Natalie had asked me to meet up again. Not Kit.

“Can’t you see I’m watching a movie?” she said pointedly.

Rolling my eyes I turned back to my phone, the movie was a ridiculous comedy that I was not enjoying so I decided to play on my phone. I checked my Facebook and saw I had over a hundred friend-requests from people I had never even met. Ones that didn’t even have mutual friends.

“What the hell?” I muttered staring at my phone in confusion.

“What?” asked TJ.

“I have a hundred friend requests on Facebook,” I said showing her my phone.

“Ah, yeah. Have you checked your Instagram?” she asked.

“Not since you made it for me months ago,” I shrugged.

TJ had gone about making me a Twitter and Instagram account a few months ago, demanding I join the twenty-first century. I had a Facebook that I sometimes used, but the whole idea of Instagram and Twitter, even Tumblr seemed to be only good if you were a celebrity. Which I was not. Though if I was judging by the amount of people who had suddenly followed my Instagram and the three pictures of food I had posted, that could be debated.

“Jenna tagged you in that photo of you and Richard on Instagram,” TJ explained.

I blinked in shock and stared down at my phone again, quickly logging on to my seldom used Instagram I saw I had a notification that I had in fact been tagged in a photo and that said photo had been commented on five-hundred and sixty-three times!

“But I only added Natalie and Jenna on Facebook, I didn’t add anyone on Instagram,” I said, my mind boggling.

“You don’t have to be friends with someone on Instagram to tag them.” said TJ with a roll of her eyes.

I started scrolling through all of my Facebook requests, none of them even had mutual friends with me, how had they found my account?

“Who are these people?” I demanded, showing my phone to TJ.

“I’m guessing fans of Game of Thrones wanting to know why you’re dating Kit Harington?” she hypothesized.

“But I’m not!” I said, getting annoyed.

“Well, that’s what it looks like to the internet,” she shrugged.

“What?”

“Ok,” began TJ, pausing the movie, clearly distracted, “Exhibit A, Natalie posts a picture of the two of you at the Football where you are sitting in his lap looking quite cozy. Heaps of people see it and because she tagged you, they now add your Facebook page to find out how you got to be in that highly sought after position because you luckily have it set on private.” she explained.

“Ok,” I said slowly, only just following her train of thought.

“Exhibit B!” she began swiping my phone so she could log in to my twitter page, “Jenna live-tweets your day out in Melbourne and tags you on twitter along with some adorable photos of you and Richard. So you now have…whoa! Two thousand followers!” she said, sounding impressed.

“This is getting weird,” I told her but she continued on.

“Exhibit C, we have your Instagram account that Harry has posted and tagged you in the same photo’s. Hence all the comments and follows on that account.” she said as she began to scroll through the comments, “Hey look! Jen Silva liked it! How cool is that? You love her!”

“What?” I asked, momentarily distracted as I saw Jen Silva  had not only liked my picture with Richard and the gang, but she had also commented on Jenna’s tweet about her seeing the sites of Melbourne, saying ‘ _Bring me back a Koala’_.

“Imagine what would happen if I posted that picture of you and Kit at the club! People would go nuts!” she smiled.

I was snapped abruptly out of my brief distraction, “What? No!”

“Why not?” she asked, “Everyone already thinks you’re dating.” she said with a shrug.

“Exactly. Which is why I have dozens of messages in my inbox right now!” I complained.

I had checked my Facebook four days ago and there had been nothing in my inbox, “I don’t want anyone thinking we are dating,” I began before a horrible thought struck me, “Oh god, what happens if my parents see this?”

I had to calm myself down when I remembered my parents and brother were just as wary of social media as I was.

“Too late,” she smiled as she showed me a message my brother had sent me, ‘ _call me immediately!_ ’ it read.

I glared at her, wondering how on earth I was supposed to explain to people how I was not dating Kit Harington. Explaining to my sibling was one thing, who I was surprised hadn’t called me, though my Mother had probably confiscated his phone if I remembered our last conversation correctly.

But, explaining to people who I went to primary school with who were suddenly contacting me out of the blue wanting answers? That was going to be impossible.

“I’m surprised Kit hasn’t posted anything, he got me to send him the pictures of you two I had” she added.

“He doesn’t have any social media stuff. He doesn’t like it.” I explained.

“How can someone not like social media?” she asked incredulously.

I looked at her pointedly.

“Besides you, you’re weird.” she said flippantly.

“Yes, while you and all the other people in my generation were learning how to use Myspace I was busy having lung biopsies.” I said with a roll of my eyes.

“Oh Myspace, the days of my youth.” she said dreamily.

“I agree with Kit. Social Media is stupid. Not to mention confusing,” I said scrolling through my phone again.

“Then what did he want the photo’s for?” she wondered.

“How the hell should I know?”

“Maybe to gaze lovingly at them during your month apart?” she suggested.

I glared at her, but my anger was unimpressive as she simply laughed.

“I hate to say I told you so, but the evidence is clear. Kit likes you,” she smiled.

“He does not!” I snapped.

“Said the hill-billy in the face of climate change.” she smiled.

“Hey, that was actually quite a sophisticated insult. Good job, TJ” I smiled. 

“Thank you.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that you’re wrong.” I added.

“Beezus, the internet doesn’t lie,” she grinned.

Despite what TJ said, I couldn’t believe Kit had feelings for me because all the evidence that I could see suggested otherwise.

When we had left the Football, everyone had hugged me, but him. Which was weird. When we had our semi-snuggle on the couch in the club, he didn’t even acknowledge me or that our intimate position had meant something to him. Though he had rested his head atop mine, whether that was about intimacy or comfort I couldn’t tell. When I was standing in my underwear, he hadn’t even looked at me really. Despite the fact that I had very obviously been checking him out. Yes, he had asked to spend more time with me but, the way he had done it was like it was no big deal, which, in his mind, it wasn’t. So why should it be to me? And most confirming of all was that we had been alone in my apartment and he hadn’t tried anything. No touching, no flirting and no lingering eye contact on his part.  Kit definitely didn’t feel anything more for me than friendship. Which was fine. I myself was still a little confused about my feelings. Moving from celebrity crush to actual crush was a weird transition, but I knew nothing could come of it. That didn’t stop my heart from leaping into my throat every time I saw I had a text from Kit and I started smiling like an idiot.

But I tried to keep my feelings in check. I was only feeling the things I was because Kit was an attractive male who was being nice to me. I was instantly latching on for something more because I was lonely. Walking around with an oxygen tank didn’t lend itself to a lot of male attention. A fact that was compounded when I saw my best friend never without admirers. I had to get a grip on things. 

So when the day came for TJ and I to say goodbye to the Game of Thrones gang, I deliberately made sure that I did not try on fifty different outfits like I wanted to. I just picked the first thing that my hands touched… which happened to be my favorite black cardigan with the pink flowers on it as well as a printed skirt that I knew I looked amazing in. But that was beside the point! I wasn’t deliberately trying to look good! Which is exactly what someone who wasn’t interested would do so that was what I was doing. But my pink handbag really looked good with my cardigan. And for the sake of fashion, I had to wear it. 

I was unreasonably nervous as TJ and I took the bus to the airport where we met up with the gang at a nice little café called ‘The Coffee Club’ which, ironically, didn’t serve that nice a coffee.

“So saying goodbye to the land of Aus, will anyone be coming back?” asked TJ as we sat ordering lunch.

“I will,” said Kit immediately.

TJ looked over at me smugly, as if him saying that confirmed everything she had been saying, which it didn’t so I ignored her. Keeping my eyes on the menu.

“Now that this blessed trip is coming to an end I must ask something that has been nagging at me since day one,” began Harry.

I looked over my menu at him curiously.

“What does TJ stand for?”

Everyone laughed.

“Taylor-Jane. But I prefer TJ.” she explained.

“And this isn’t coming to an end. We can totally see you guys in August when you come over,” said Richard simply.

“Yeah! We can take you sight-seeing, return the favor,” said Jenna with a smile.

“You don’t have to do that,” I said, waving her off.

“No, no, it’ll be our pleasure.” smiled Richard.

I couldn’t help but smile back; it was nice to know my friendship with the gang wasn’t simply one out of convenience due to them being in the same country as me and needing a tour guide. Or the more likely scenario of them feeling sorry for me. But they seemed to genuinely like me. Enough to extend our friendship beyond their time in Australia.

We talked about their favorite memories of being in Australia and what they recommended TJ and I do when we got to England, they suggested the normal stuff, the London Eye and Bridge. But also a few non-normal activities.

“There is a Tudor exhibition on in London right now, you should go!” smiled Natalie.

“Is Anne Boleyn in it?” I asked slyly.

“Sadly, no” she sighed. 

“Got to ask, Jonathan Rhys Meyer’s, you ever hit that?” asked TJ curiously.

“Only when the cameras were rolling” she grinned.

I sighed dreamily, “Are his eyes really that blue?”

I’d had a long time crush of Jonathan Rhys Meyers. He was an amazing actor.

“You like blue eyes?” asked Kit curiously.

“Watch out Jenna! Someone might be out to steal your boyfriend,” grinned Harry.

“Oh, please!” scoffed TJ, “If Beezus is interested in anyone its-” but I cut her off.

“TJ!” I said loudly, hoping no one would see the panic in my eyes, “What are you getting for lunch?”

“The Potato Wedges. Why?”

“I just wanted to know so I could steal a few,” I invented quickly.

Thankfully the attention was diverted from me when the waiter arrived with our meals.

The two hours passed quickly and soon we were walking them to their terminal and hugging one another goodbye.

“Text me the moment you land in England!” instructed Jenna as she pulled me in for a hug.

“Will do,” I promised as I patted her back gently.

“We’ll take you out on the town,” she promised.

“We have to go shopping when you’re in London,” said Natalie as she gave me a hug.

“Absolutely!” I agreed.

Last but certainly not least was Kit. I tried to remind myself to breathe.

“I’ll see you in a month.” he stated, though the way he said it made it sound like a promise.

“Yeah, I’m really looking forward to seeing Belfast,” I smiled.

He smiled back and pulled me into a hug.

I reached up on the tips of my toes to rest my chin on his shoulder. After a moment I made to drop my arms and pull away, but Kit was still clinging to me tightly. Frowning in confusion I wrapped my arms around him as the hug time was extended from friendly to weird.

I glanced over at TJ for help, hoping she could shed some light on this new development, but she didn’t say anything. She just smiled like a Cheshire cat. Jenna was clutching Richard’s arm, smiling so broadly that two dimples had formed in her cheeks. Richard seemed amused. Natalie was smirking as if she knew something everyone else did not, though that was how her smile usually looked.

And Harry… looked bored.

None of them were any help so I turned my attention back to the hug and closed my eyes, just enjoying the feeling of being in his arms, having them wrapped around me.

Releasing me, he smiled as if nothing was amiss. I eyed him dubiously as he and the rest of the cast walked through the gates to board their plane.

“Bye!” waved TJ.

I waved as well, still feeling confused.

Once they were out of eye range I turned to TJ, “That was weird.”

“What was? How Kit looked at you with those big puppy dog eyes or how he didn’t let go of you for at least thirty-five seconds… I was counting,” she smiled.

“Both” I said, “And were you really counting? It didn’t seem that long”

As she opened her mouth I quickly cut her off, “Don’t even say it!” I warned.

She did anyway, “He is so in like with you! Truly, madly, deeply-”

“I will hit you with this!” I threatened grabbing my oxygen bottle threateningly.

She grinned happily as we began walking through the airport, “Well, time will tell.”

“Time will tell what?” I asked pointedly.

“Whether or not he likes you. Absence makes the heart grow fonder.” she grinned, fluttering her eyelids dramatically.

“You are not funny.” I snapped as we continued to walk through the airport.

But I couldn’t shake the strange feeling I had as we walked through the airport.


	6. Chapter 6

Three days after the gang had left I was still fielding social media notifications.

“Have you been on your Instagram lately?” asked TJ as she leaned against my desk while I stood alphabetizing medical files.

“Yes. I wrote that Kit and I were just friends.” I replied.

TJ practically squealed with delight.

“What?”

“That’s internet speak for ‘we are totally dating but don’t want people to know it’.” She explained.

“How does that even work?” I asked shaking my head in annoyance.

“Did you talk to your Mother?”

“Yes. She remains blissfully unaware, her and Dad don’t like Game of Thrones. Roman’s the only one and he is on a technology ban, so he probably hasn’t seen the pictures yet,” I sighed.

“I saw the comments one of your cousin’s left. How long before they tell your parents that you have a boyfriend?” she asked.

“You mean how long before my Dad runs a background check on Kit?” I asked sarcastically looking up from my filing.

“I’m surprised you haven’t received more attention for this,” said TJ, “It could be a lot worse.”

“My mum put out a ‘Don’t bother Beezus while she is sick’ memo to the family. So they are probably all respecting that.” I explained.

“By ‘respecting’ do you mean they are only messaging you through Facebook once a day? Because that is what I would be doing,” she smiled.

“God, you’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” I demanded turning to her incredulously.

“Hey, I’m not the one who sat in a celebrity’s lap and got a picture of it,” she grinned.

“Bite me,” I retorted as I went back to sorting the files alphabetically, “I’m basically shutting off all social media outlets right now.”

“Are you going to stop reading the news? Because you’re in it.” she said.

I turned to her in confusion, “What?” I asked.

TJ smiled and pulled a magazine out of her bag and dumped it on my desk, “Found this in the waiting room.”

Frowning I grabbed the magazine; it was a trashy tabloid with a picture of Angelina Jolie on the front that was dated to today, I failed to see what it had to do with me, “What am I looking at?” I asked in confusion.

“Turn to page six.” TJ smiled.

I eyed her dubiously as I flicked through the magazine; my eyes bulged as I saw a two page spread plastered with pictures of me and the gang from their social media sites and paparazzi pictures of Kit in Belfast.

I dropped the magazine, feeling my stomach roll with nausea. My heart was beating erratically; I turned back to my medical files in an attempt to calm myself.

“You don’t want to read it?” she asked, sounding offended.

“Nope,” I said keeping my gaze down as I remembered my phone was in my bag and I hadn’t checked it all day. I was even more loathed to check it now.

“I’ll read it to you then,” smiled TJ; she grabbed the magazine and flicked her hair back over her shoulders and squared her shoulders, “Kit Harington has found love on his recent trip down under on a promotional campaign for season four of Game of Thrones.” she read.

“Wow, this sounds amazing,” I said sarcastically as I continued to file.

“Beatrice Quin is a long standing Cystic Fibrosis sufferer who met Kit on his recent visit to the Royal Melbourne Hospital.” she read.

“How the hell do they know that?” I demanded.

“Nurses talk, sweetie,” she said purposely.

“Of course they do,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“The two hit it off immediately and made plans to meet up again, this time at a Football game, where the two were seen doing anything but watching the game at hand.” she said, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

I pursed my lips shrewdly at her before I turned back to the filing cabinet, desperately singing the alphabet in my head, trying to drown out TJ’s voice.

“Next, Kit took the bold step of introducing her to his friends,” she continued.

“Oh, that’s bullshit,” I said, finally snapping as I threw down a file, “I met them the same time I met Kit and they were at the football too!”

The lies were just too much. Who comes up with this kind of stuff? We weren’t fictional characters in some made up story. Kit and I are real! Real people with real lives! What gave them the right to make-up such lies about me? About Kit? I couldn’t imagine how he would be feeling. How it felt to have people twist the intimate details of his life to be sold for what? A story? It was revolting. It was parasitic.

“Once getting the ‘ok’ from his friends, Kit next plans to introduce Ms. Quin to his family. The Thrones star may have left the country but we are sure he’ll be back sometime soon.”

“Is that it?” I asked, picking up the file I had thrown and filing it away.

TJ winced, “There’s more.”

I sighed as I slammed the door shut, my anger overflowing, “Of course there is.”

“But there is a tragic turn in this otherwise flawless fairytale,” she read.

“What? They’re saying I’m terminal?” I guessed.

She nodded. I felt positively sick to my stomach.

“How do they know that?” asked TJ, “Did you tell any of them?”

“Why would I tell them?” I demanded angrily, “I was already the sick girl to them. You think I wanted to be the dying girl as well?”

TJ sighed. I slumped down into my office chair and put my hand to my head, suddenly exhausted.

“Do you want me to stop?” she asked.

“Keep going,” I sighed, figuring it was best to hear everything at once. Like ripping off a Band-Aid.

“Ms. Quin has been suffering from terminal cystic fibrosis her entire life,” she read.

I sighed; I had of course been diagnosed with Cystic Fibrosis when I was an infant. Though I had only turned terminal in the last eighteen months. Dangling, probably somewhere near the bottom, on the transplant list, waiting for a set of lungs to become available.

“This tragic love story-” began TJ.

“Stop,” I interrupted her.

She sighed and closed the magazine.

We sat in a heavy silence for a moment as I sat in my desk chair, focusing on my breathing. So many thoughts were running through my head, mixed with so many emotions. Anger, sadness, guilt, fear and anxiety. They ran through me too fast for me to pick one to settle on.

“Tell me what you’re thinking right now.” said TJ.

“I’m thinking there is no way I could be famous.” I said with a sad smile.

“Why do you say that?”

“I’m a very private person. There is no way I could deal having that kind of invasion into my privacy.” I said simply, “Two freaking days of this and I’m already exhausted.”

TJ laughed and leaned back against the wall, “Welcome to the real world sweetie.”

…

“Are you dating this boy? How do you know him? Why is your picture everywhere? Why are they saying you’re dating? Why would you be dating someone and not tell me?” demanded my Mother.

I sighed, “Wow. Went from why to would in three seconds. That’s a record for even you Mother.”

“Don’t play smart with me,” she warned.

“Sorry.”

“Now, honey, I am all for you living your life the way you want to, but do you really want to do it this way? With everyone watching you?” she asked.

“Of course not,” I said.

“Then why would you take up with this boy?” she asked.

“I wasn’t thinking about the press when I befriended him,” I said simply, “And I didn’t think that should have been a deciding factor in my approach.”

“I’ve been fielding messages from the family all day wanting to know about you and this boy,” she fretted.

“Can I just point out that I hung out with all of them? Not just Kit,” I said, “And why are they calling you? Why haven’t any of the family called me?” I asked curiously.

“I told them not to bother you.”

“I knew it!”

“Honey, do you really think it’s a good idea getting into a relationship?” she asked kindly, “I mean, I am all for it. But is he aware of the depth of your condition?”

“Mum,” I said, taking a deep breath and desperately trying to cling to what remained of my patience, I had been going through my Facebook inbox all day fielding similar questions and I was a little tired of it.

“I mean he’s on that pornographic show that your brother watches,” she continued.

“Mum,” I interrupted again; “listen to me carefully.”

I waited for her to stop talking. It took a while.

“I am not in a relationship with Kit Harington. If that changes I will let you know.” I said calmly, breathing deeply, “In the meantime if you hear or read anything else please dismiss it as fiction unless you hear it from me personally,”

“Oh, good. Because I must say, hearing that you have a boyfriend from your brother after he read it on book-face, or whatever it’s called, was quite depressing,” she sighed.

“You think it’s depressing,” I mumbled.

“I thought it was a bit odd that he was asking about you,” she mused.

“That’s what you thought was odd?” I asked incredulously.

…

Five days after the gang had left; I was on the train home after work when I got a phone call. Seeing the name on the screen I blinked in shock as I answered.

“Are you aware of how much this phone call is going to cost you?” I asked immediately.

“I figured I should at least call the future mother of Kit’s children,” said Natalie happily. 

I groaned, “We’re having kids now?” I demanded.

“Oh, that’s not all,” she said, “you’re married too.”

“I must have slept through the ceremony.” I grumbled.

She laughed, “I thought I’d check how you were coping with everything.”

“Technology is evil and sunglasses are my friends,” I replied.

“I’m a fan of the baseball cap,” she said.

“Can’t. My tubes get stuck.” I said, then my face fell, “That sounded dirty.”

She laughed.

“How’s Kit?” I asked.

“He hasn’t called you?” she asked curiously.

“Nope,” I said, popping the ‘p’.

 “Well, he went out with Emilia the other day. That should take away some of the pressure,” she said.

“Emilia Clarke?” I asked curiously.

“Yeah.”

“Huh.” was my only response.

A bunch of emotions swirled through me. The most prominent of which was jealousy. Which was absolutely ridiculous of course. What did I care who Kit hung out with? Even if it was a girl. An insanely hot girl. 

…

A week after the gang had left; things had begun to quiet down. For which I was glad as I had a doctor’s appointment to clear me for international air travel. I was also having a skyping session with a specialist that I would be seeing whilst in London.

“You’ll need to take it easy a few days after the flight, the oxygen in air planes is naturally thin so despite having your cannula in, it will take a little out of you.” explained Doctor Maria.

“That’s not a no,” I grinned.

It was really pointless for me to be seeing a Doctor. I had decided I was going to go to England with or without medical blessing. Though I had promised my parents I would seek medical help before going just to put their minds at ease.

“Look, the trip itself is a little risky. But seeing the specialist over there is invaluable.” She said.

“So you’re saying…?” I trailed off, waiting for a definitive answer.

“Does it really matter what I say?” she asked, having already guessed my mind set.

“No. But it would put my parents mind at ease if you gave me a clean bill of health,” I smiled.

“Well I can’t give you that. But you are clear to fly,” she smiled.

“Sweet,” I grinned.

“Though I would recommend taking it easy on the physical activities without a week long course of steroids,” she said.

“Dang. I was planning on doing a tap dancing solo over the London Bridge,” I shrugged.

“No tap dancing,” she warned, “Sex on the other hand would be fine.”

I blinked in shock, “Why would I be having sex?”

“I assumed you had already,” she said, sounding as equally shocked.

“What are you-” I began but something clicked in my head, “oh.” I realized, “You’ve been reading the tabloids, I see,” I surmised.

“I just thought I would let you know that if you want to have sex, you can. Just use protection,” she said simply, though she did not meet my eye.

“Thank you doctor. I’ll go out and find myself a bang-able boy this instant,” I said, pushing myself out of my chair.

“Have fun,” she called, “Send me a post card from England,”

“Will do.” I called as I disappeared out the door.

…

Two weeks on, things had practically gone back to normal. No one brought up the photos or asked me ridiculous questions any longer. It seemed my fifteen minutes of fame had passed and I was more than happy about it.

I’d, of course, heard from Natalie, Jenna and Richard. But nothing from Kit. It was beginning to bother me.

“Well, have you texted him?” asked TJ curiously as she ransacked my wardrobe, finding a green dress of mine that she liked; she instantly threw it towards my open suitcase.

“Yes. I said I hope he had a great flight, but never heard anything back,” I said simply as I watched the green dress fly across the room before I turned back to my drawers.

“That’s weird,” said TJ, “Everything he said and did before he left said that he was nuts about you. But now he hasn’t even bothered to text you? It just doesn’t make any sense.” She said, staring into my wardrobe as if it would explain Kit’s strange behavior.

I shrugged, trying to seem as if I was un-bothered by Kit’s lack of communication. But, in fact, it did bother me. More so than I wanted to admit. I could say it was because I thought the two of us had hit it off and had become friends in our brief time together, but I’d be lying. Despite what I believed, everything else everyone had said to me - TJ and all the tabloids -, I had really started to believe that Kit might have had feelings for me. It was like an infection. If someone played with dogs long enough, they were bound to get fleas. And my fleas were feelings for Kit and the belief that he shared them. Though, if that were true, why the radio silence? I knew the answer, because it wasn’t true. He saw me as a friend, maybe not even that.

“He’s probably busy getting ready to go shoot Game of Thrones. Nat said they start in a week,” I explained, that was the delusion I was operating under anyway.

“What did she say about Kit?” she asked.

“Just that he’d been out with Emilia,” I shrugged as I stared very determinedly into my drawers searching for the pair of socks I wanted.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” she said dismissively.

“Why do I care who he spends time with?” I said just as dismissively.

“Ah, because you like him,” she said pointedly.

“You know,” I began, turning to face her, “You keep making these assumptions, but never once have you actually asked me about how I feel,” I said, “You just assume.”

“What’s wrong with assuming things, when I’m right?” she challenged.

“Never assume. Because when you do, you make an ass of you and me,” I grinned.

“Very punny,” she said.

I shrugged and grabbed the socks I wanted, throwing them over to my case.

“Do you?” she asked.

“Do I what?”

“Like him?”

“Does it matter?”

“Of course it matters! There is no use him having feelings for you if you don’t have feelings for him,” said TJ dubiously.

“Just like there is no use me having feelings for him if he doesn’t have feelings for me,” I said simply.

“Hmm,” she said as she sat down on my bed, watching me carefully, “I think you’ve got feelings for him. Really strong ones. And because of that you won’t admit it, not even to yourself, that they’re there,” she observed.

“TJ, you weren’t a phycology major, stop trying to be my shrink,” I snapped.

“I don’t know, I’m having quite a lot of fun with this,” she smiled.

“You’re supposed to be helping me pack,” I grumbled starting to get annoyed.

“What exactly do you think will happen when we go to Belfast?” she asked, lying down on my bed, getting comfortable, “Do you think you will slow run into each other’s arms like in the movies?” she teased.

“I was actually thinking we should skip Belfast,” I said quietly.

“What? But we have tickets to that Michael Flately show!” she exclaimed.

“Like you really want to go,” I scoffed.

“No, but you did. Why the sudden…” she trailed off, I could practically see the wheels turning in her head, “Oh, I see! You don’t want to go to Belfast at all now because that’s where Kit is.” she summarized.

“Are you going to help me pack or not?” I deflected looking up from my drawers.

“Tell me,” began TJ, shifting on my bed, “Are you more afraid of getting rejected or not getting rejected?”

Sometimes it was really annoying having a best friend that could practically read your mind.

“No, I’m afraid that we leave in two weeks and you still haven’t packed a thing.” I said simply.

“I’m afraid because we have two weeks to go and you’re already packing,” she replied, “But you still haven’t answered my question.”

I simply threw a jacket at her. Watching in satisfaction as it fell on her face.

 


	7. Chapter 7

Soon enough the tenth of August rolled around and all speculation about me was done.

I didn’t sleep on the flight over to England. Thirty hours and I didn’t sleep a wink. Needless to say I was not in a good way when we touched down at Heathrow. I didn’t appreciate the first sights and sounds of London, I was too tired. Breathing was hard work. I felt as if heavy weights had been placed on my chest, every breath I took was an effort. By the time we got to the hotel, I could barely stay on my feet. I practically collapsed onto my bed in our hotel room. 

“I’m sorry, TJ,” I gasped as I lay on the bed, “I’m not up for much sightseeing today,” I revealed as I desperately tried to catch my breath.

“It’s fine. Jesus, you’re going blue!” fretted TJ.

“Oh relax!” I breathed, “I just need to lay down for a little-” I took a deep breath, “Hours.”

TJ helped remove my shoes and positioned my oxygen bottle beside my bed. She then pulled back the covers and tucked me into bed.

“Go out and have fun! Tell me all about it when you get back,” I smiled as I snuggled down into the blankets.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Go for it! I’ll wake up for dinner and we can go out,” I promised.

“Sleep as long as you need,” she said.

I did exactly that.

I woke to the sounds of voices just outside our door. Rolling over I saw Richard and Jenna coming into the room with TJ.

“Hey,” Jenna smiled, “You were supposed to text me when you landed,” she said as she came and sat by me on the bed.

“Sorry. Got a little preoccupied,” I grinned; Richard came and sat on the end of my bed, “Hey, Rich.”

“Hey yourself.” He greeted with a charming smile.

“You feeling any better?” asked TJ.

“Much,” I smiled, which was only partly true. I still felt like there was a heavy weight in my chest, but I, at least, felt I had the energy to stand up and talk.

“Good. We’re going out to dinner.” Announced Jenna. 

“And karaoke.” Added Richard.

“As long as TJ promises not to sing Miley Cyrus,” I bargained.

Jenna and TJ then proceeded to go through my clothes and choose the ones they wanted me to wear. I sat with Richard, watching the two of them in amusement.

“Have you heard much from Kit?” I asked conversationally.

“Yeah, he started filming at the start of the month,” he replied.

I nodded in understanding, working to keep myself casual.

“But you haven’t heard from him,” he said.

I shook my head. In the weeks that had passed, I had resigned myself to the fact that Kit had no feelings for me, friendly or otherwise and I had resolved not to think on him since then. But seeing Richard… the temptation had been too great.

Richard sighed, as if he had expected such an answer.

I turned to look at him curiously, “You look as if you want to say something,” I observed.

“It’s not my place,” he replied. 

I squared my shoulders and went back to watching TJ and Jenna, “It doesn’t matter.”

“Doesn’t it?”

“Nope.” I said determinedly popping my ‘p’.

TJ and Jenna eventually settled on a long sleeved green dress of mine and a white cardigan I had, decorated with red, yellow and blue flowers. They paired it with my brown boots. I felt happy and confident, knowing someone as fashionable as Jenna had picked my outfit, it had to look good.

We went out to a typical English Pub, so I had a typical English meal, Sausages with mashed potatoes and gravy. While we caught up over dinner three different people came up and asked Richard and Jenna to take photos with them.

I suddenly realized how easy the cast had it in Australia. I’d only seen them be approached by fans two or three times. Here it had happened three times in one meal! And the paparazzi! In Australia I had never seen one, though I was sure they were about. Here they stood openly across the street, taking pictures of Jenna and Richard as we walked to a karaoke bar.

“Just one drink,” I told Jenna as we stood at the bar and she ordered two cocktails.

“Speak for yourself,” said TJ as she turned to Richard, “Shots?”

“You’re on!”

Jenna and I watched, sipping on our drinks as the two of them did a series of shots before sculling a beer each. I had to say this for TJ, she might look like a Barbie doll, but she drank like a sailor.

We then took a seat at a table and proceeded to watch as a large fat man sing Celine Dion’s ‘My heart will go on’. Quite skillfully. We stood talking and laughing as patron after patron took their turns on the microphone.

“Alright, come on, one of you ladies get up there,” said Richard, slurring his words slightly as he gestured to the karaoke machine.

“I need at least another two drinks before I get up there,” said TJ, though she swayed on her feet slightly.

“TJ, I’m not sure you’ll be conscious after another two drinks,” I observed.

“Of course, I’ll be con-sis-you-us,” she slurred.

Jenna and I laughed. 

“Well, we can’t leave unless one of you gets up and sings!” cried Richard loudly, slamming his drink down onto the table like some old Viking.

Jenna and I looked at each other, after a quick game of ‘Rock, Paper, Scissors’ it was decided I would go and sing.

Flicking through the book, I decided on a classic. Joan Jett’s version of ‘I Love Rock and Roll’.

I enjoyed singing as much as anyone did. I sung along to songs in the car and in my shower just like anyone else. But I was no great talent when it came to singing, I’d always known that. So I didn’t ty to impress or think I was good when I was really tone deaf, I just stood on the stage and enjoyed myself, singing along as I was instructed.

Once the song was finished I received a modest applause, far too enthusiastic from my friends in the corner before the next patron took the microphone.

“You were awesome!” smiled Jenna.

“No, I wasn’t.” I replied bashfully.

“You were! Rich took a video,” she said grabbing the man in questions phone.

“I’m surprised he can even stand, let alone film anything,” I commented.

“I’m perfectly lucid.” he defended though his point was somewhat hampered as he swayed a little.

I turned to look at his phone and watched as a little version of me appeared holding the microphone somewhat gingerly as I began to sing. You could clearly see how awkward I was standing up there, but I smiled the whole time, still looking as though I was having fun.

The video was halfway through when it was interrupted by a message; from Kit. I read it before I could stop myself. Richard had sent a message saying; _if you are not over her, you know what to do_.

Kit had replied; _thanks._  

I thrust the phone back to Richard so that I couldn’t read anymore.

I suddenly felt sick as my mind raced with possibilities as I interpreted what I had just read. Kit was not over a girl.  What did that imply? A girl he had feelings for, who he’d obviously tried to get over, and failed. Who could that be? My mind went to three possibilities. The first was Rose Leslie. TJ had, of course, informed me that her and Kit used to date and suggested that maybe he had a thing for red heads. My hair was a light brown but could appear copper in the right light, which I guess she assumed was a shade close to red. Then there was Emilia Clarke. The media had been speculating about the two of them for ages and Natalie herself had told me the two of them had been together. Then there was the possibility that it was a girl I didn’t even know about. One who he had loved deeply.

Perhaps that was why he had paid me such attention in Australia; he was trying to move on from a girl that had broken his heart. I had been a sad, little pathetic rebound not even worth what a typical rebound was for. Which had obviously not worked as Richard’s text had said.

I told myself I had gotten over whatever it had been that I felt for Kit. But as tears sprung at my eyes I realized I wasn’t. The despite everything I had still held out hope that the two of us would talk again, I had enjoyed Kit’s company most of all and I was sad to think that would never happen again. I blinked back the tears that stung at my eyes.

Thankfully in that moment TJ had tried to walk and proceeded to crash down to the ground.

The rest of the night was spent helping a very drunk TJ back to the hotel. Richard and Jenna made plans to see us tomorrow morning to show us around town.

“Late tomorrow morning by the looks of Rich,” said Jenna.

I laughed as I basically poured TJ into the elevator and we headed upstairs.

We moved very slowly down the hallways, using the walls as support, I opened the door and she fell onto her bed.

“Whee!” she cried as she rolled onto the bed.

I set about taking off her shoes, whilst trying to make sure she didn’t fall out of bed.

“I ‘ad fun tonight Bee-tus. Did you ‘ave fun tonight?” she slurred.

“Yes, TJ.” I answered, trying to keep the amused smile off my face.

“I’m sorry ‘bout Jon Blow,” she slurred, “you two would ‘ave been so cute together.”

“Some things just weren’t meant to be,” I sighed as I stood up and tucked her into the bed.

“But you ‘ere meant to be. Ew so were,” she slurred, “You were spose to ‘ave cute little babies wiff curly hair,” she complained fighting off the covers that I tried to pull over her, “Even doe you didn’t like him. I wheely wanted you to be ‘appy,”

Sighing I sat down next to her on the bed, “TJ I’m going to tell you something, only because I know you won’t remember it in the morning and can’t hold it against me,” I began.

“You’re not sticky; I can’t old any-fing against you.” she complained.

I smiled in spite of myself at her drunken talk, “I did like him, TJ. I liked him quite a bit,” I revealed, “But he doesn’t feel the same way.”

I made to stand up and move away but she grasped my hand, “How do you know?” she asked.

“Sometime, when you’re sober,” I began as I tucked her into bed, “I’ll tell you. But right now you need to sleep.” I instructed.

“No, I don’t…” she grumbled she didn’t even finish her sentence before a short little snore was emitted from her slack mouth.

I shook my head, amazed as always about how TJ could pull off her drunkenness with a certain amount of charm. Something I only associated with Johnny Depp’s Jack Sparrow.

I changed into my pajamas as quietly as I could before I lay in bed. Vowing, not to give Kit Harington and what might have been, one lousy thought before I fell asleep.

…

The next day we went sightseeing, the London Bridge, the Tower of London, Big Ben and the London Eye, as well as Buckingham Palace and the changing of the guard.

TJ and Richard were both a little hungover; both of them wore large glasses and lacked the enthusiasm both Jenn and I had. We posed for photos and I uploaded them to my Facebook for my friends and family to see. My Facebook was also linked with my Twitter and Instagram, so the photos were uploaded there too.  I was instantly flooded with questions from strangers as to why I was in London and if I was seeing Kit. I ignored them.

I saw echoes of Melbourne architecture in the olden buildings, but seeing as London was older it was probably the other way around. It also had the similar attributes of blending modern with historical architecture beautifully. The trains were a lot narrower and smaller than the ones in Melbourne, but they came every three minutes instead of every ten.

I saw a lot of things in London I knew I would never forget, but the most surprising of all was a public urinal; it was a plastic grey triangle with little holes on each side meant for men. It offered no privacy or even any real hygiene. I was so shocked that I took a picture. I then couldn’t stop laughing.

The group found my laughter more amusing than anything else and Richard grabbed his phone once again to record me.

“Beezus, why are you laughing?” he asked as he pointed his phone at me.

I giggled and took a deep breath, “Look at the toilet!” I managed to gasp before I broke into another fit of laughter. It just seemed so absurd to me that men would actually use the strange pyramid as a bathroom.

“It’s like dogs peeing on a fire hydrant,” I giggled.

“Are you high?” demanded TJ.

I continued to laugh like a maniac.

“I think she’s tired,” said Jenna.

“Or she’s just insane.” Said Richard as he continued to film me.

Despite the comments, I couldn’t stop laughing.

…

The next day I caught the tube by myself to the ‘Gary Magdalen School of Irish Dance’. I walked inside the studio to see my old dance instructor, Gary, standing by a mirrored wall while a bunch of girls in orange shirts and black tap shoes danced before him. The sound of their shoes clacking against the wooden floor was like music to my ears. The beating heart of Irish Dancing.

“Keep the count! Don’t rush it!” yelled Gary so that he would be heard over the tapping shoes.

I looked at the dancing girls, it was hard for me to tell as all the girls were so petite, the normally markers for age all hidden but I guess I was viewing the over thirteens to sixteen year old tap class.

It was then that Gary looked up and spotted me, he smiled in greeting and I smiled back. Pushing away from the wall he came over and grasped me in a hug, “Beezus,” he said as he held me before he broke away and looked at me, “How was the flight?” he asked.

“Long.” I said loudly, fighting to be heard over the dancing.

He nodded in understanding, his grey eyes racked over my body and I watched as an edge of sadness crept into his expression. He cupped my face gingerly in concern and I smiled. Gary had been my Dancing Teacher since I was four years old. He had been with me throughout my dancing career and had watched me grow into the dancer I had been, one that he was very proud of. Despite his frightening demeanor, I knew Gary thought of me as a sort of daughter, his protégé. Before I had gotten sick.

Sighing sadly, he stepped away from me and turned back to the class and we continued to watch the dance. Despite the girls fast movements I took the time to read their shirts that were decorated with a blue cartoon face that was very angry looking, the words ‘Beware of Scary Gary’ written there.

I laughed out loud. It had long been a joke amongst Gary’s students that he was frightening, his cold gaze and grueling teaching methods. But I had always assumed the joke was behind Gary’s back, but here these girls were, wearing the insult on their shirts. I loved it!

“I want one of those shirts.” I commented.

“Already have one set aside for you. I thought you might like it.” He said, turning to grin at me.

I spotted two girls who were moving faster than the rest and pointed it out to Gary as quietly as I could.

“Good eye,” he complimented, “Cherie! Nicole! Watch your timing!” he shouted.

The two girls jumped at the sound of his voice but eventually fell back into the rhythm of the other dancers. Soon the dance ended and Gary introduced me to the class.

“Everyone!” he called, even though the tapping sound had stopped he still spoke quite loudly, “This is Beatrice Quin,” he said gesturing towards me, “She’s a former student of mine and is here to teach a few master classes over the next couple of months.”

I felt a dozen pairs of eyes drilling into me like tiny pins as they looked at me skeptically. They eyed my oxygen bottle and fragile frame, my short legs not lending themselves to their view of what a great dancer should look like.

“Ok,” I began, wheeling my oxygen tank after me as I stood in front of the class, feeling the girls watch my awkward movements with harsh judgement, “Irish Dancing is a mixture between Tap and Ballet. In order to be a great Irish Dancer you need to master the basics of those two dance movements so take off your shoes and we will start with ballet,” I commanded.

The class broke out into quiet whispers of discontent. None of them making to do what I asked.

“Hey!” shouted Gary and the whispering stopped abruptly, “That’s enough of that!” he commanded.

Begrudgingly the girls removed their shoes and placed them against the outsides of the wall before falling back into position.

“Show me first position,” I commanded trying to make my voice sound confident and sure, though I felt anything but.

They looked around at one another as if to say ‘Who does this girl think she is?’

But one stern look from Gary had them all moving into first position.

From there I pointed out the mistakes some of them were making and corrected them, “Your arm is too straight.” I told one girl.

She pursed her lips in annoyance and bent her elbow slightly.

I could see it was going to take a while for these girls to respect me and trust what I was teaching them. The thought scared me. But I had Gary there ready to enforce my orders for the time being, that would have to do for now.

I walked amongst the girls to better spot their mistakes. My oxygen cart trailed after me noisily.

“You don’t have a good foundation,” I told one girl, “You’ll topple over any moment. Widen your stance.”

The girl looked down her nose at me before moving her feet a mere millimeter apart.

I came to a stop in front of her; she was trying to intimidate me by looking down her nose at me and staring directly into my eyes.

I didn’t look away as I very gently poked her shoulder; she wobbled dangerously before she toppled down to the ground. She looked up at me with utter loathing. That was a start. Every dance instructor needed to be hated by their students so that they could push them further than they normally would. The respect would come later when they saw the results that my pushing got them. But for now, hatred was good.

“Widen your stance.” I said simply before I continued on.

I heard the girl mutter a string of curses as she got up from the floor and did as I said.

After making a round, I stood in front of the glass once again, “Second position,” I commanded.

A discontented mutter fluttered throughout the ranks but they did what they were told.

I took the class through all the positions, fixing their mistakes as I went. The annoyance practically radiated off each student but I did my best to ignore it and pretty soon the class was finished.

“That was good,” commented Gary as the girls began trickling out of the studio.

“They didn’t think so,” I replied.

“The more they hate you the more you can push. Remember what an angry little ball you were when we first started?” he asked turning to look at me fondly.

I smiled at the memory, “I hated you so much.”

“I know!” he said knowingly and we laughed together.

“Come on, I’ll take you out to dinner. You can tell me all about what you’ve been up to,” he smiled as he threw his arm over my shoulder, “Now that you’re not dancing.”

“Yes, I know, I’m your greatest disappointment.” I said rolling my eyes.

“Or my greatest triumph. Depends how you look at it,” he replied.

…

The next two days I spent at Gary’s studio teaching all of the age groups and essentially doing the same thing, taking them through the basics and making sure they mastered them. Gary stayed for each session, enforcing my teachings when they were not automatically obeyed.

By the time Friday rolled around I was glad to have a day off from teaching a bunch of hateful dancers who thought so low of me.

“Bitches,” said TJ as we boarded our plane to Belfast, “You should meet some of my new friends. They’re a lot nicer than yours.”

“That’s because you’ve befriended every drunk in London,” I replied.

TJ, as she had promised, had been spending her days while I was teaching classes going to different Pubs and getting horribly drunk. I was glad that we were going to Belfast so that her liver might get a rest.

“Not all of them, probably about half,” she corrected.

“My mistake.” I said, rolling my eyes.

The flight to Belfast wasn’t too long and I was happy once we caught the taxi to our hotel. It wasn’t as nice as our one in London but we were only coming to Belfast for intermitted periods, not like in London where we were constantly staying.

I texted Jenna as soon as we were settled in our Hotel room, telling her that we had landed safely.

She texted me back almost immediately; ‘ _What room you staying in?_ ’

I frowned curiously at her question. ‘ _206\. Why?_ ’

Her reply was strange; _‘curious. Just wanted to know what kind of view you would have.’_

“I can’t wait to go and see the sights,” I smiled as I slipped off my shoes; I was wearing the green dress and white cardigan combination Jenna had come up for me. It was quickly becoming one of my favorite outfits.

“Speak for yourself,” grumbled TJ, “I’m going to have a shower.” she announced, disappearing into the bathroom.

“You don’t want to go and get something to eat?” I called, the food on the plane had been barely edible, as a result, I was now starving.

“You can go get something,” she called.

Suddenly there was a polite knock at the door.

“I’ll get it,” I called to TJ.

Going to the door I pulled it open a little too quickly, causing the subsequent wind to push my hair out of my face. Looking up to see who had knocked on the door, my breath caught in my throat and my mouth popped open in shock, “Kit?” I asked in disbelief.

“Hello, Beezus.” he smiled.


	8. Chapter 8

I stood in the doorway in absolute shock, not quite believing that he was standing in front of me. He was dressed casually, but I could see he had just had a shower, his black hair shone slightly from the drying water. He stared at me pensively, seeming amused by my immobility.

“Who is it?” demanded TJ.

“It’s Kit.” I managed to call, not removing my eyes from him.

“Yeah, right,” she teased, “No way would that pompous- Kit!”  She said in shock as she came out of the bathroom.

“Hello, TJ,” he said greeted.

A tense silence followed as I stood there staring at him. Why, on earth, was he here? My emotions were moving far too quickly for me to pick just one, so I stayed with shocked. 

“Are you going to let me in?” he asked eventually.

I didn’t say anything but moved to the side so that he could come in.

“Thank you.” He said pleasantly as he stepped inside.

I closed the door behind him and leaned against it, not daring myself to move as I stared at him. My glance flickered to TJ who seemed to be just as speechless as I was.

“Um, I’m going to go have a shower.” She announced before she disappeared back into the bathroom, though I didn’t hear any running water.

Kit turned around to face me, “How was your flight?”

“Fine,” I answered carefully.

“How long are you staying in Belfast?”

“Just a couple of days.” I replied.

He nodded in understanding, looking around the room curiously. I could feel my curiosity outweighing my surprise.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“I came to see you.” he said simply.

“Why?” I asked slowly.

“Heard you were in town. Thought we might catch up.” He replied.

I eyed him suspiciously. How could he go an entire month without talking to me, then show up here and want to ‘catch up’? Did he have a split personality?

“Do you want to go and get a coffee?” he asked.

I hesitated, I wasn’t about to invite him back into my life. Not after he’d hurt me the way he did. Whether it was on purpose or not, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“You don’t want to go?” he asked curiously, not seeming to understand what I had said.

I opened my mouth to reply but TJ popped her head out of the bathroom and interrupted us, “Yes, she does!”

I glared at her.

“Great,” he smiled, “Put your shoes on and we’ll go.”

I looked back and forth between the two. Both of them seemed perfectly happy as they stared at me, waiting for me to get ready. Knowing there was no way out of it I sat down on the bed and pulled my shoes on. Readying myself to leave.

Kit opened the door and waved me ahead of him.

“We’ll be back in an hour.” I called to TJ as I stepped out the doorway.

“Or two.” Called Kit.

“Take your time!” called TJ happily.

I had enough time to shoot her one last glare before Kit closed the door.

“Come on, I know a café down the street.” He said.

“Actually, I was going to go out and get some food.” I explained.

“Ok. There’s a great restaurant-” he began.

I didn’t want to be alone with him in a restaurant. That would mean long uninterrupted time together and it also echoed of a date, I didn’t want that.

“McDonalds.” I interrupted, “Let’s go to McDonalds.”

There was nothing romantic about McDonalds. Screaming children and half eaten food everywhere. Food that was disgustingly processed and cheap, that was exactly the environment I wanted us in. Fast paced with a quick getaway.

“Sorry, I haven’t been in contact, I’ve been quite busy.” He said as we walked.

“Doing what?” I asked, I wanted to know what had kept him so busy he couldn’t take two seconds to text me back. 

“Pre-production stunt training and learning the scripts. Choosing projects after thrones, you know how it is.” He smiled.

“No, I don’t actually.” I replied coolly as we walked into McDonalds.

As I expected there were screaming children throwing food and general unruly ruckus in the fast food restaurant. I ordered a large chips and a chocolate thick shake, waiting in silence as my food was delivered on a plastic tray.

I made to grab it but Kit got there before me, grabbing mine along with his own tray, “Come on,” he said as he walked to a secluded table at the back of the dining area.

Reluctantly I followed, I didn’t want privacy. I didn’t want to be alone with him, but it would seem I had no say in the matter.

I sat my oxygen tank next to me as I pulled the top off my thick shake and dipped a chip in, coating it in the creamy ice cream before eating it.

“That’s odd,” commented Kit as he sat down across from me.

“Don’t mock it until you try it,” I replied.

To my utter shock he picked up a chip and dunked it in my drink before eating it. He chewed carefully, “Not bad,” he allowed, “salty sweet.”

I smiled in spite of myself; I had never met anyone who liked dunking chips into thick-shakes like I did. I could count the people who had actually tried it on one hand.

“So, what things have you done in London?” he asked as he unwrapped his burger.

My eyes narrowed as I eyed him suspiciously, why did he want to know? Why did he care?

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Having a late lunch with you.” he said innocently.

I continued to watch him suspiciously, if he was going to play this game of pretending nothing had happened, I would play too. Only to see the end result.

“Richard and Jenna showed us all the sites in London,” I said.

“Yeah, Rich sent me a video of you laughing about a toilet.” he said.

“Did he?” I asked curiously, I desperately wanted to ask why he had sent it. But didn’t, I was playing along, I was playing nice.

“Yeah, I thought it was funny that you found it so funny.”

“Well each to their own,” I said dismissively as I turned back to my food.

“Have you seen any shows yet?” he asked, “London has some of the best theatre around.”

“No.” I replied, “But TJ and I are in Belfast to go and see a show.”

“What one?”

“Michael Flately.”

“Ah. I should have guessed.” He smiled.

I didn’t say anything. Had he not listened to anything I said in our talks?

“When are you doing that?”

“Tomorrow night.”

“Hope you enjoy it.”

“I will.” I replied coolly. I wasn’t playing the game very well; my annoyance was getting the better of me because I felt like he had me at a disadvantage. Despite what I wanted we were here, alone and I was talking to him.

“So,” he began, seeming unaffected by my cool tone, “Let’s play twenty questions.” He announced.

I frowned in confusion, “Why?”

“Why not?” he challenged.

I pursed my lips in annoyance, “Fine. You go first.”

He smiled in triumph.

“Ok, what would you be if you weren’t a dancer?”

“I’m not a dancer.” I replied.

He sighed, “Fine. Your turn.”

Not wanting to play this stupid game anymore, I repeated his own question back to him, “What would you be if you weren’t an actor?”

“For a long time I wanted to be a journalist. Even thought about going to University for it before I decided on acting.” He said, “What’s your favorite film?”

“You already know that one,” I blushed.

“Seriously? Pompeii?”

So he had been listening.

“Mine’s The Shining.”

“That’s messed up.” I commented.

He shrugged before he looked at me curiously, “What was the best day of your life?”

I tilted my head to the side slightly, “That’s a bit personal don’t you think?”

“No more personal than anything else I’ve asked.” He said, “why so secretive?”

“Why so inquisitive?”

“I asked you first.” He smiled.

I glared, “I’ve learned to become cautious about what I say since people have started taking such an interest in it.”

“Now you know how I feel.” he said simply.

“No actually, I don’t.” I said pointedly.

He eyed me for a moment, was he finally getting the message that I was pissed off with him?

“You still haven’t answered the question.”

Apparently not.

“My fifth birthday.” I replied.

“Why?”

“It was the day I got my first pair of tap shoes.” I explained.

“You’ve never told me how you got into dancing.” He said.

“It’s Michael Flately’s fault.” I shrugged, “I was four when my Father took the family to see him live in concert. The way his feet moved, I’d never seen anything like that in my life! As soon as the show was finished I turned to my Dad and said ‘I want to do that’. He, of course, thought it was just a phase but I ran around our backyard for months after that trying to do what he’d done. Eventually they enrolled me in classes. I think they always figured that it would be too hard for me, that I’d eventually give up. But I never did. So on my fifth birthday they brought me my tap shoes as a sign of surrender, I guess.”

“I like that.” He commented.

“What?”

“How determined you were. Even as a four year old.” He said.

“Well, a lot’s changed.” I said dismissively.

“I don’t think so.” He observed.

I squirmed under his admiring gaze, he was beginning to make me feel uncomfortable, giving me compliments that were no longer true.

“And you?” I asked, leaning forward on the table, folding my arms across it, “What was your best day?”

“The day I decided I wanted to be an actor.”

“Why?”

“Because it was like a door had been opened to me, all these opportunities that I had never considered now stood before me. I would get to do something that I had only ever dismissed as a Hobby because it made me so happy. No one ever did something that made them that happy for a job. But I could. It was amazing.” He explained.

I smiled in spite of myself, “I like that.” I commented, “You, being so full of hope. It’s nice.”

He kept asking questions of me and I kept firing the same questions back at him. They stayed on light subjects. Our favorite food, colours, flowers ect. Then they took a sudden turn.

“What was your worst day?” he asked.

“Getting pretty heavy for a McDonalds conversation.” I commented.

He stared at me pensively, as if sitting in a McDonalds in Belfast, was the perfect place to have deep and meaningful conversations.

“Thirteenth of February, two-thousand and thirteen.” I relented.

“Why?”

“That was the day I got my oxygen tank.”

He frowned, “I would have thought that would have been a good thing. You can breathe better now, have a longer life.”

“It might be a longer life. But it’s not the one I wanted. Getting this bottle was like a jail sentence. No more dancing. No more running. No more life in which my every movement wouldn’t be hindered by this thing.” I looked down at my bottle bitterly, “Would you want a life like that?”

“No.” he replied grimly.

“Exactly.” I said

“So you’d rather be dead?” he asked.

“No.” I said as I chewed on a chip, “Just bitter.”

We sat in an awkward silence that was tense with the weight of my words.

“And you?” I asked, breaking the silence, “What was your worst day?”

“The day I decided I wanted to be an actor.” He replied immediately.

I frowned in confusion, “You just said-”

“It was also the day I realized how hard my life was going to be. Choosing a career that has a ninety-percent failure rate. That no matter how hard I tried and how much I wanted it, I might never be able to do the thing I loved. I realized the thing that brought me so much happiness would also be the cause of a lot of sadness.” He explained before he looked over at me, “Kind of the mantra of my life really.”

“Sucky life.” I commented.

“It’s not so bad.” He allowed, “I’ve got a better career than most. One that makes me very happy. Even if I never work again after Game of Thrones, I still won’t regret it.” He explained.

I sat staring at him, realizing that I envied him. I envied his ability to see the good, even when he knew it might cause him pain. I looked down at my chips sadly; I couldn’t remember being that optimistic. I suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

I wiped my fingers on my napkin and took a sip of my drink, “I think we should head back to the hotel.”

“We haven’t had twenty questions yet.” He complained, “Still have one each.”

“You can ask me another time,” I replied.

We walked back to the hotel in relative silence.

“We’re being photographed.” I observed as we walked, I saw a bunch of photographer’s across the road from us, snapping away with their large cameras.

“Yeah, they do that.” He said simply.

I tried not to let it show how much it bothered me.

We walked back to my hotel room in silence. Opening the door, I saw TJ laying on her bed, watching T.V.

“Oh, hello, you two! You’re back so soon?” she asked happily.

“Ran out of things to talk about.” I said simply as I wheeled my cart in behind me, I went and sat on my bed, keeping my eyes away from Kit, I fiddled with the nozzle on my oxygen tank.

“Kit what are you doing tomorrow night?” asked TJ conversationally.

“No current plans.” He said, though I could feel his eyes on me.

“Beezus and I are going to the Michael Flately show, Lord of the Dance. You heard of it?” she asked.

“Heard a little about it yes.” He answered.

“I’ve heard about it non-stop for the past six months,” said TJ, sighing dramatically.

I watched her from the corner of my eye, sure that she was up to something.

“I’m afraid I’m entirely fed up with it. In fact I don’t think I could sit through the show!” she revealed, looking over at me happily.

I eyed her suspiciously, what was she doing?

She turned back to Kit, “You should go instead of me.”

I bolted upright, “TJ!” I said loudly, “I think you’re forgetting that you paid good money for your ticket.” I said desperately, trying to dissuade her from her plan.

“I did.” She agreed, “Which is why I don’t want to see it go to waste.” She said before she turned back to Kit, “How about it Harington? Fancy taking my dear friend to a show?” she asked.

I glared at Kit, making it very clear that I did not want to go to a show with him.

He looked pass TJ, directly at me and said, “I’d love to.”

I looked away, staring determinedly out the window like a stubborn child.

“Great. We’ll see you at five tomorrow afternoon.” Said TJ as she showed Kit out of the room, as soon as she closed the door I turned to face her with an impressive glare which she simply smiled at, “I think that went well.”

“Have you completely lost your mind?” I demanded.

“Last time I checked, probably.” She smiled.

“This isn’t funny TJ!” I snapped.

She didn’t stop smiling, which only worked to infuriate me more.

“What has to break inside your tiny little mind for you to think you can run my life this way? What on earth makes you think I would want to spend time with Kit?” I demanded.

“Because you like him.” She said simply.

“Do not!”

“Do too!”

“How do you know?” I demanded.

“Because you told me.” She smiled.

“When?” I asked skeptically.

“Our first night in London. I remembered.” She smiled.

I stared at her in shock, opening and closing my mouth several times trying to find something to say, but no words came out.

“Didn’t see that coming did ya?” she teased.

I pursed my lips in annoyance, “Fine. So I like him. There! You happy?” I demanded.

She grinned.

“I still don’t want to spend time with him.” I said stubbornly.

“Why not?”

“Because he doesn’t like me back!” I snapped, I was truly getting annoyed now and her smug expression wasn’t helping my mood.

“Yes, he does.” She said dismissively.

“Then why didn’t he text me back?” I demanded.

She opened her mouth to say something but quickly shut it, her brow furrowing in thought.

“You don’t know do you?” I challenged.

She pursed her lips in annoyance.

“Yeah.” I said pointedly, “So next time you feel like running my life for me, don’t.” I snapped.

“Fine. I won’t.” she promised.

“Good.”

“You still have to go see the show with him tomorrow night.” She added.

“I hate you.” I pouted.

“I know.” She grinned. 


	9. Chapter 9

The next night I sat on my bed curling my hair.

“You’ve been in a bad mood all day.” Observed TJ.

“We’ve been cooped up inside all day.” I replied.

“You’re looking quite nice tonight. Any particular reason?” she asked happily.

“I’m not talking to you.” I replied, focusing on fixing my hair the way I wanted.

“You’re being juvenile.” She commented.

“Said the girl wearing Hello Kitty Pajamas.” I said, looking over at her pointedly.

She stuck her tongue out at me.

“Now whose being juvenile.” I commented.

“Still you.” she said.

I ignored her and continued to curl my hair.

“What are you going to wear tonight?” she asked.

“None of your business.”

“I could help, make sure you look good.” She offered. 

“I don’t need to look good; I’m just going to see a show.” I replied stubbornly.

“Ah huh. Sure.” She smiled.

I focused on my hair. It was true I was making an effort to look good. But I was going to see a performance by the man who had inspired my career. Of course I wanted to look good. It had nothing to do with Kit. I pulled my hair up into a tight ponytail, slicking back the rest of my hair so there were no bumps or stray hairs. I then let the perfect curls I had created spring and bounce at the back of my head.

For my outfit, I had decided on a green skirt with a white silk top that had green patterns upon it. I paired it with a nice green flower necklace and dark green shoes, with my brown handbag.

As five o’clock came near, I grabbed my full oxygen bottle and headed down to the lobby of our hotel room to wait for Kit.

“Have fun!” called TJ.

“Bite me!” I called before I headed out the door.

I had no idea what was going to happen tonight. All I knew was that I wasn’t going to let my annoyance at Kit ruin my night. I was going to play nice, or at least be polite.

If I thought about it I was being a little petty. Holding a grudge because he hadn’t text me back. But it was more than that; it was because he had led me on. He had made me believe I was worth something to him and then he cast me aside without so much as a word. And now because it was convenient for him, he was prancing back into my life to twist me up in knots again.

Even in my mind I still sounded petty. That didn’t stop my feelings though.

Looking up I saw Kit striding towards me. He looked incredibly handsome, I had to say. He wore dark skinny jeans with an equally dark jacket, the colors broken by a white shirt. I could tell he’d washed his hair again; it was shining under the lights.

I could see he also had a bag with him.

“Kit.” I greeted.

It was just a pretty face. Just a pretty face. I chanted in my head so I wouldn’t be distracted by how gorgeous he looked. 

“Beezus.” He greeted as his eyes wandered lazily over my body, “You look nice.” He complimented.

“Thank you.” I said tartly. For some reason I didn’t like that he thought I looked nice. I wanted to look more than that. It was then I remembered the bag he carried, “What’s in that?” I asked.

“Picnic.” He replied, “TJ told me we’d be sitting on the grass, so I thought I’d pack some stuff for us to eat.” He explained.

I blinked in shock, taken aback by his thoughtfulness.

“Shall we go?” he asked.

I nodded and we headed outside. Kit quickly hailed a taxi and held open the door for me.

“Thank you.” I said as I scooted inside, placing my tank down at my feet.

He rounded the other side of the car and climbed in to sit next to me on the passenger seat, “I’ve never been to an Irish Dancing show. How long will it go for?” he asked.

“Around two hours.” I replied, “Its not just dancing. It has a storyline.”

“Bit like the ballet?” he asked.

“Sort of.” I allowed, “It has other things as well, singing and flute playing. The whole show is really about the Irish culture.” I explained, “Or more how it used to be.”

“Not how you imagined?” he asked.

I shook my head, “I imagined the Irish to be a very gentle and graceful.”

Kit laughed and I felt the cold exterior I had on, thawing.

“Instead,” I continued, “All I’ve seen is that they are very loud and like to get very drunk.”

“A bit like Australian’s in that way.” He said.

“A lot like Australians in that way.” I agreed with a smile.

Eventually the taxi arrived at the venue and we climbed out and took our place in line. The ticket inspector cleared us and Kit placed his hand gently on my back as he guided me to a spot on the grass. I tried not to blush or read too much into it. That was what had got my feelings hurt in the first place. Adding meaning to things that were obviously meaningless. I could see that now. But I was still a little bitter about it, though I was trying not to be. 

Kit put the bag down and I made to sit down but he stopped me. Opening the bag he pulled out a picnic blanket and laid it on the ground. He then sat down and pulled out a series of containers, filled with food.

“You’re well prepared.” I commented as I sat down, “Like a boy scout.”

“A boy scout who made friends with the chef at his hotel.” He grinned as he opened a container, revealing a bunch of fresh strawberries.

I smiled gleefully as I took a strawberry and plopped it in my mouth. If I was TJ I would have bitten into it seductively, but I wasn’t and I had no idea how to make eating fruit look sexy.

“This is all very thoughtful. Thanks’ Kit.” I smiled.

“Not really,” he said modestly, “I figured if I get bored I can keep myself occupied with eating.”

“You won’t get bored.” I promised.

Looking forward, I could see we weren’t far from the stage, which was currently empty. The grounds were mostly full of audience members with similar set-ups to Kit and I. As I looked around at the audience I could see some were watching us. Some even had their phones out, pointed at us.

I resisted the urge to raise my middle finger before I turned to Kit. He seemed to have noticed the same thing I did.

“Does that ever bother you?” I asked curiously, he had seemed perfectly fine yesterday when the paparazzi had taken our picture though now he seemed a little annoyed.

“Sometimes.” He revealed, “I don’t mind so much when their out in the open, but when their sneaky like that it’s a bit different.”

I glanced over my shoulder, feeling eyes upon me. A boy, who couldn’t have been much older than me had his phone pointed at me. He snapped a picture, ignoring my glare he looked at his phone before showing his companion. I turned back to Kit feeling annoyed and self-conscious.

Part of the reason I was so reluctant to use social media is because it was so picture based. And since being saddled with my oxygen tank and cannula, I was very reluctant to have photographs taken of me. I didn’t want to be reminded or even remembered as someone who struggled for every breath.

“I think it’s worse when people do it like that.” I said gesturing behind me, “Paparazzi are doing a job. They are just nosy.”

“They’ll probably sell the pictures. So I guess they are doing a job too.” He sighed.

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop seeing the good in everything. Your optimism is annoying.” I commented.

“What’s the alternative? See the bad in everything and be depressed?” he asked.

I paused, he had me there.

“If it makes you feel any better yes, I agree. They are worse and it does bother me. But I don’t want it to ruin our night.” He said.

“Me neither.” I agreed.

“Good. Because I’m here for a thoroughly good time and to hopefully be educated in the fascinating art of Irish Dancing.” He grinned.

I grinned at him as I grabbed some cheese from one of the containers, “You’re so weird Kit.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He said.

“It was meant as one.” I informed him.

He looked up at me, a smile teasing at the corner of his lip. I looked down at my lap, blushing under his gaze before I looked up through my lashes at him. I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks, my heart beating erratically as oxygen drizzled through the nubs of my cannula.

Suddenly the sounds of an Irish Flute sounded and I turned my attention towards the stage as it came to life, completely transfixed as the show began.

When Michael Flately charged out onto the stage, I clapped enthusiastically along with the rest of the crowd. My heart leaping into my throat as I saw my beloved idol not twenty meters from me.

For the next two hours I was transfixed by the spectacle in front of me. Every now and again I would feel eyes upon Kit and I but I did my best to ignore them, knowing if I paid them any mind then they would indeed ruin my night. I didn’t want that.

The blanket was of an average size and I sat on the edge of my side, Kit sat on his, the food a barrier between us. Though I was focused on the show I began to feel paranoid, was he moving closer? I was certain that one moment he had been next to the cheese container, now he seemed closer to the strawberry container, closer to me. For a while it distracted me, I kept glancing over at him, looking for some sort of sign that he was moving closer, but he looked straight ahead at the show, never giving anything away. So I dismissed by paranoia as simply that.

When the show was done I climbed to my feet, absolutely breathless with awe and clapped until my hands hurt. Embarrassingly tears were streaming down my face, the show had been amazing. It had been everything I wanted it to be and more. It had transported me back to when I was a little girl, seeing Michael’s feet move so fast they were practically a blur, his tapping feet sounding like a hum instead of a tap.

Unfortunately it had reminded me of just how much I had wanted to dance, how much I loved dancing and how hard I had worked. I saw every single female dancer on that stage and knew I was better than them. I was a better dancer than all of them, but I would never have the opportunity to prove it, hindered by my useless lungs.

“Are you alright?” asked Kit as I tried to discreetly wipe the tears from my cheeks.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice breaking embarrassingly, “It was just a really good show.” I said as I looked over at him, my cheeks still wet, “I told you, I’m a big cry baby.”

He smiled briefly before he looked down at me seriously, his brown eyes boring into mine as he stepped closer. Very slowly and deliberately he reached up and wiped my cheek gently with the tip of his thumb, the knuckles of his other fingers brushing across my lower cheek and chin.

I stopped breathing as I stood utterly transfixed.

His hand slid from my cheek and fell to his side as he looked down at me intently. I could feel his chest rise and fall against my arm with each breath he took. The air sizzled between us and cracked with intention.

“We should get going.” I said loudly, hoping the panic didn’t show in my voice.

His face fell and he simply nodded.

I moved a little too quickly and helped him to pack up the containers and fold the blanket; we headed out through the gates, falling into line along with all the other audience members. Kit hailed us a cab and ordered the driver back to my hotel.

“So, did you like it?” I asked eagerly.

“I liked the story.” He said.

“And the dancing?”

“I’d still like to see you do it.” He said with a smile.

I laughed so that I wouldn’t cry, “There are videos of me dancing, I’ll show you  sometime.” I said, that was as good as he was going to get to seeing me dance.

The taxi pulled up outside the hotel and I climbed out, carrying my tank with me, I looked back into the cab to say goodbye to him, but to my surprise he had gotten out of the car and came around to my side.

“I had a really nice time.” I told him, “I hope you did as well.”

“I did.” He said simply.

“Ok.” I said looking around awkwardly, “well, goodnight.” I said, making to leave.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” he asked suddenly.

I stopped and turned around to face him, he had leaned forward on the tips of his toes, his hands clasped behind his back as he looked at me with a look of… surely he wasn’t nervous? Yet that was what he appeared to be.

“Nothing.” I said slowly, what on earth was he nervous about? “Why?”

“Thought you might want to come to set tomorrow.” He said.

That explained why he was nervous. It was obviously because he thought we might embarrass him on set.  I wished I could say ‘No, we won’t’ but TJ was coming. I couldn’t make any promises.

“Sure.” I smiled, “What time should TJ and I meet you?” I asked.

“Oh, I’ll be on set long before you. Why don’t you come around nine?” he suggested, “that’s generally when we start shooting, after we have the rehearsals and blocking out of the way.”

“Ok.” I agreed.

“Ok.” He said, breathing out loudly, “I’ll call David and Dan, clear it with them. Then you should be right to come.”

“Where is it?” I asked curiously.

“I’ll text you the address.”

I nodded in understanding.

We stood on the street smiling at one another awkwardly.

“Bye.” I eventually said.

“Oh, bye.” He said, seeming taken by surprise.

Afraid I would do something to embarrass myself I turned on my heel and rushed inside, not pausing for breath until I was in the elevator. I breathed deeply to calm myself, tonight had been a strange night tinged with many emotions. Most of which I didn’t understand the reasons behind. But in that moment I was too exhausted both physically, mentally and emotionally. I dragged my feet as I made my way to our room.

“How was the show?” greeted TJ.

“Fantastic.” I smiled, “He was amazing!”

“Look at you! Gushing over your new man-friend” she grinned.

“My what?” I asked, I then realized what she had thought I meant, “Not Kit! Michael Flately!” I replied rolling my eyes. 

“Fine. How was the company?”

“Lovely.” I replied as I flopped down onto my bed and kicking off my heels, my feet ached from wearing them.

“You look tired.” She observed.

“I am.” I sighed as I rubbed my feet.

“Well, get some sleep. We’ve got a big day of sightseeing.” She said.

I pulled off my skirt, not bothering to find pajamas, I was too tired.

“We’re going to the Game of Thrones set tomorrow.” I informed her.

“What?” she asked in shock, “Where? When?”

“Tomorrow morning.” I groaned as I positioned myself on my bed, my back ached deliciously as I lay down flat on the bed, sleep made my eyes heavy.

“What will I wear? What will you wear?” she demanded.

“Worry about it in the morning, TJ.” I said simply as I closed my eyes.

“How am I supposed to sleep now?” she demanded.

“I have no idea.” I smiled as I slipped into unconsciousness.

 


	10. Chapter 10

The next morning TJ and I readied ourselves to head to set, after I received the text from Kit confirming we were allowed to come and where we should go.

“Nice to see he can actually text back.” I commented over breakfast.

“Oh, get over yourself.” Said TJ, “You were perfectly happy with him last night.”

She had a point. I had been. He was just too hard to be mad at when I was around him.

TJ sweated about what she would wear for an hour. I myself grabbed what I knew would be warmest, the weather was overcast and miserable looking. I grabbed a pale pink t-shirt and a long navy blue woolen cardigan with white stripes. I grabbed my maroon jeans that I had worn to the football and my black boots. Kit had said we were going to the court-yard set of Castle Black. I didn’t know what that meant but I wanted to have sturdy footwear as my feet were still tender from last night. I paired it all with a white scarf that had purple and pink flowers decorating it.

I was ready at least half an hour before TJ was.

Hailing a cab we headed to the Castle Black set. Upon arrival we explained who we were and waved through the gates; after we were given two badges to wear that explained we were visitors. We were then met by a grey haired man called Chris Newman, who was the producer for the Northern Ireland unit.

“Kit called about you two a month ago. Said he was planning to have some visitors. Had to get it cleared with David and Dan weeks in advance. Only got his confirmation that you were actually coming last night.” He explained as he led us onto set.

At first I wondered if we were walking onto a half finished set, everything from the back looked patched and unfinished but then we stepped onto the set and it was like being transported back in time. There was stone, or at least it looked like stone. And old wood stairs and structures. But I barely had time to marvel at the realism of the set when I was distracted by the thumping and grunting of men.

I easily spotted Kit dressed in his all black Jon Snow costume. He was moving slowly, swinging his sword against the shield of a little boy.

“Don’t take it easy on him, Kit.” Called a man sitting in a chair behind the camera.

I watched as Kit continued to spar with the boy. I wanted to run over and greet him, but I was very aware that he was working and I didn’t want to interrupt.

“Alright, cut. Set up for a different angle!” called the man.

Kit smiled and rubbed the little boys head affectionately; he then looked up and saw TJ and me standing behind the camera watching him.

Unsure of what else to do, I waved.

He smiled and walked over to me, I opened my mouth to say ‘Hi’ but the word got squashed in my throat as Kit pulled me in for a bone crushing hug, lifting me off the ground as he did. I gingerly placed my hands on his shoulders for balance as I smiled, my cheek rubbing against his ear and soft curls until he placed me gently back on the ground. I looked up at him breathlessly, my hands still on his shoulders. 

“You got here alright?” he asked, “no trouble at the gate?”

“No, none at all.” I smiled, though I couldn’t quite figure out why I was smiling so widely.

“Good.” He smiled.

I continued to smile up at him. I was just so, happy. I was happy at how happy he was to see me.

“Ah, hello, beautiful blonde girl over here!” said TJ pointedly.

He tore his eyes from me and I stepped backwards, releasing his shoulders as I realized I’d been holding for too long.  I smiled sheepishly.

“Morning ,TJ.” He greeted.

“Morning, Kit. Or should I call you Jon Snow?”

“I think he prefers God of Luscious hair. But he’ll probably answer to Kit.” I said, smiling at him out of the corner of my eye.

“The God of Shampoo married the Goddess of Conditioner and the God of Hair was born.” Announced TJ.

“Ta da!” I teased.

“Alright, that’s enough you two.” Said Kit, smiling anyway.

He then took me around and introduced me to everyone; all of the Nights Watch Extra’s and all of the crew. I was surprised he knew all of their names. I could barely remember the first ten.

The director for the episode, whose name I learned was Michael, eventually called for Kit to come back and do the next scene. I expected to see another version of what I had before, slow sparing that was obviously rehearsed and not meant to hurt anyone.

As soon as the director yelled ‘action’, Kit was moving. He thrust his sword forward harshly and quickly, the little boy, Brenock, struggled to keep up . Only just getting his shield up half the time just before he was swung at.

I found myself watching with baited breath, clutching my fingers in front of my face anxiously. Part of me was worried that one of them was going to get hurt, a part of me couldn’t help but admire Kit’s skill with the sword, his athleticism and the way he moved. I found myself especially admiring his arms… They were strong and hard, I liked being wrapped up in them.

“I think someone is trying to impress you.” said TJ lowly.

“What?” I asked quietly, turning to look at her.

“Before we got here he was barely touching that boy, now it’s as if he wants to murder him!” she whispered.

“Don’t be stupid.” I dismissed.

We stood watching Kit for most of the morning, watching him attack the poor Brenock, who did his best to block the advances. Ironically the more enthusiastic Kit was in his fighting, the more pleased the Director was.

“Shield up!” Kit commanded, again and again, never seeming to tire of saying the same words.

Again and again the two performed the same sequence, Michael wanting different things each time, different angles, different directions etc.

My feet began to ache from standing so long and I grew tired but I refused to sit down; there were other people working far harder than me.

“Alright, check the gate. Go and have lunch. We’ll shoot Carice’s scene after.” Michael announced.

A woman handed Kit a thick woolen coat which he put on before he came straight to me, “What’d you think?” he asked, panting heavily.

“It was good.” I approved, “Very real. Very sporting.”

“How much film will that be in the end? Once they put it all together?” asked TJ.

“Probably about a minute worth.”

“Wow!” she marveled, “You filmed for three hours to make one minute of film?”

He shrugged and slung his arm over my shoulders, “Let’s go get some food.” He said as he led me to the ‘Craft Services’.

‘Craft Services’ was basically a buffet lunch! There were three different types of roast meat, Beef, Pork and Chicken with an array of vegetables ready to be added. It struck me how well the workers on the set were treated, Kit being given a coat as soon as he was finished filming, lunch provided for everyone. It made me think I was being over-worked at my crummy reception job.

Kit led us along the buffet line as we grabbed what we liked before we headed over to a table.

“Does it ever get boring? Filming the same scene over and over again?” I asked curiously, thinking about how many times I had seen him film the same scene over and over again this morning.

“Sometimes.” He allowed, “But I’m a perfectionist, so I look at it that I get to do better each time.”

“See what I mean?” I asked turning to TJ, “So optimistic.”

She nodded in agreement, her mouth full.

“You two been talking about me?” he asked.

“All the time!” said TJ through a mouthful of food before she looked at my plate, “Did you get one of everything?” she asked.

“I couldn’t decide.” I replied.

“It’s good to see a girl with a hearty appetite.” Grinned Kit.

“Hardly.” I replied.

“She won’t eat for two days now the freak.” Explained TJ, “Something about her meds make’s her eat like a horse for a day then she’s sick for the rest of the week.”

“Wow, TJ, who knew you were so observant of me?” I said sarcastically.

“Just saying. If this ends with you hurling I’m not holding back your hair.” She warned.

I rolled my eyes and turned back to Kit, who was eying me with concern, “I’m fine.” I dismissed.

“You sure?” he asked seriously.

“Yes!” I said firmly, “Now drop it!” I commanded, growing uncomfortable.

“Okay.” He agreed, though he continued to eye me cautiously. 

We chatted pleasantly throughout lunch before we went back onto set and I met Carice Van Houten. At first sight, I thought her long red hair was real, but the way they tucked it back into a netted cap revealed it to be a wig. She too had absolutely flawless skin that made me instantly want to scrub my face.

Upon meeting Carice, I thought she would be fun and jovial as many of the other cast members I had met, but there was a certain sternness about her that I found off-putting.

I was glad when Kit walked me over to a chair that had his name embroider on the back, and told me to sit down. I felt so pathetic getting tired from just standing, but I had been doing a lot these past couple of weeks. It was bound to take its toll on me somehow.

During a break as they set up for the next shot, Kit came over to me, his sword still in hand.

“Isn’t that thing heavy?” I asked curiously, it looked heavy.

“No.” he dismissed, “Light as a feather. Its aluminum.”

I nodded in understanding; of course the sword wouldn’t be real. That would cause too many injuries.

“You want to have a go?” he asked, a wicked glint coming into his eye.

“Um… ok.” I replied cautiously as I slipped out of the chair.

TJ instantly took my place and grabbed out her phone, “This I have to see.” She commented.

Dragging my oxygen tank over to Kit, he held the pommel of the sword out for me to take, the white wolf on the end contrasting greatly with the black handle. Grabbing it with one hand I was embarrassed to see that I couldn’t handle the swords weight and I let the tip sink into the dirt.

“Grab it with two hands.” Kit advised.

I wrapped both hands around the handle and lifted the tip off the ground, “Now I just stick someone with the pointy end?” I asked.

“Not exactly.” He allowed as he came up behind me. Gently he reached around, covering my arms with his own before he placed his hands over mine on the handle. I could feel the buttons of his shirt poking into my back and his hot breath next to my ear.

I tried to remember how to breathe.

“You got to try to slice, not just stab.” He said, his lips moving against my earlobe as his chin came to rest on my shoulder.

A shiver went down my spine. Breathe, just breathe.

Using his movements to guide my own, we held the sword on a diagonal, “Now picture someone you don’t like.” He said lowly, “Ex-Boyfriend perhaps?” he suggested, his breath tickling my ear.

I giggled like a stupid school girl, unable to contain myself.

“And slice it with the side.” He explained as he brought our arms down in a smooth slice, “Left, then right.” He instructed moving the sword accordingly, slicing through the air.

“I think I just castrated some air.” I commented.

I felt Kit smile against the top of my ear, “Try again.” He advised, but he kept his warm hands firmly over mine.

I did my best to imitate his movements from before whilst holding my breath. I seemed to have forgotten how to breathe.

“Aww! You two are just so cute.” Cooed TJ as she pointed her phone at the two of us.

I turned my head to the side to look at Kit, he looked down at me, seeming amused, “Can I use this on her?” I asked.

It was then I realized how close we were, his breath swirled in my face as I realized what nice lips he had…

Breathe, just breathe.

“No.” he smiled before he released me and stepped away.

I let the sword tip drop to the ground again, unable to hold it without his help.

“Alright, places people!” called Michael.

Carefully I handed the sword back to Kit and turned back to my seat. TJ vacated the chair for me and let me sit down.

“I saw that.” She commented.

“What?” I asked innocently.

“You. Blushing.” She said.

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Shut up and watch the show.” I said knowing this was not an argument that I was going to win as I was still blushing red now.

“Check out the photo.” She said as she held her phone up for me to inspect.

On the screen I saw a picture of Kit’s arms wrapped around me, his chin resting on my shoulder as we pointed the sword forward. I stood there smiling like an idiot, my ears a bright red from my blush.

“Just uploaded it to Instagram.” She smiled.

I glared at her, “You suck.”

She made a kiss face at me, knowing she had won.

I did my best to ignore her and watch Kit perform the same fight scene he had been doing all day. Never the less, I enjoyed watching Kit work for the day.

…

After he finished filming for the day, Kit decided that we should go out for dinner.

“So how long are you staying in Belfast?” asked Kit as we found a secluded booth at the back of a pub.

“Ah, another two days, then we go back to London.” I explained as I took the seat opposite Kit, TJ sitting down next to me. 

“And what are you doing in London?” he asked.

“Getting Drunk.” Grinned TJ as she grabbed a menu.

“Teaching some dance classes.” I explained.

“Are you enjoying that?” he asked.

I opened my mouth to reply but TJ spoke before I could, “No.”

“I’m not, not enjoying it. I’m just finding it a little harder than I thought it would be.” I explained resisting the urge to smack the back of TJ’s head.

“Why don’t you like it?” he asked curiously.

Again I opened my mouth but TJ replied, “Because her students are a bunch of bitches.”

That time I did smack her on the back of her head.

“Your students are supposed to hate you.” I explained.

“No, your students are supposed to respect you and yours don’t.” interrupted TJ.

“Would you stop interrupting me and go drink something?” I asked incredulously.

“If you wanted to be alone, all you had to do was ask.” She grinned before she slipped out of the booth and went over to the bar.

I shook my head as she left, “Sometimes I have no idea why I am friends with her.”

Kit grinned, “So come on, tell me why you aren’t enjoying the classes.”

“I just don’t think I’m cut out for being hated. That’s the only way you can push a dance student because they want to succeed to spite you. But these girls won’t let me push them because they don’t listen to me.” I explained.

“So what are you going to do?” he asked curiously.

“Do the time I’m allotted and go back home. I don’t think the job is for me.” I revealed.

“Where’s your sense of challenge?” he asked, “You going to let those girls get the better of you?”

“Yeah.” I said simply.

“No way.” He said shaking his head, “You’re too stubborn for that.”

“You know me so well, do you?” I challenged.

“Trying to.” He answered.

We stared at one another across the table, a playful smile playing against my lips, though Kit seemed utterly serious. His mood work to bring the once light mood into something far more serious. The air between us grew heavy and charged with something I didn’t recognize.

I jumped when TJ returned; I’d somehow forgotten there was anyone else but us in the world for a moment.

“Ok, there is nothing on the menu here that isn’t covered in grease.” She complained.

“I’m not hungry.” I dismissed.

“Of course you’re not.” She said, rolling her eyes.

“Hey, I ate three kinds of animal at lunch. Get off my case.” I snapped, “You sound like my mother.”

“Kit, you want to play a game of pool?” she asked.

“Sure, rack ‘em up.” He agreed.

TJ pranced over to the billiards table with a little too much excitement.

Sighing, I slid along the seat, intent on getting out of the booth. Kit was already waiting at the end, his hand extended to me. I placed my hand in his gingerly and allowed him to help me up.

Just as I stood up, a group of girls approached Kit, “Can we get a picture with you?” one of them asked.

“Sure.” He smiled.

“I’ll meet you at the pool table.” I said, leaving him to his celebrity duties as I wheeled my cart over to the pool table.

TJ had already set the table. Knowing Kit would be a while I grabbed a cue.

“Where’s Kit?” she asked.

“Taking care of something.” I said as I leaned over the table and positioned my shot. I successfully broke up the triangle of balls but did not manage to put one in a hole.

“Didn’t want to see him chat up by a bunch of groupies?” asked TJ as she leaned down to line up her shot.

That thought hadn’t occurred to me. Was Kit being chat up by those girls? A strange wave of panic shot through me. I looked over at him to see he had already finished with the girls and was making his way over to us.

“What’s going on? I thought we were playing TJ.” He said as he joined us.

“You took too long.” She said simply as she smacked the white ball, it glided past her intended target and bounced off the side cushion.

Moving around to the other side of the pool table, I bent down and lined up my shot.

“What you doing Kit?” asked TJ.

“Enjoying the view.” He replied.

What view could he possibly be enjoying he was standing right behind me?

I tapped the white ball just as I realized what he must have been looking at. I stood bolt upright and turned around, my eyes wide with shock as I placed a hand self-consciously over my behind, “Were you looking at my butt?” I hissed.

“What?” he asked innocently, his face blank.

He had been looking at my butt! What on earth for? It wasn’t as if I had a particularly voluptuous behind. I had been bent over a pool table, which might be a seductive pose to some guys. But I hadn’t been posing seductively. Would I have tried to pose if I had known he was looking?

My mind had gone into over-drive from that one action of his, but thankfully before I could get too wrapped up in them, my phone vibrated in my pocket.

“Hey! No phones at the pool table.” Complained TJ.

I ignored her and checked who was calling, it was Gary. Why would he be calling?

Clicking the button, I put the phone up to my ear, “Gary!” I smiled as I leaned against the pool cue, “To what do I owe the pleasure?” I asked, genuinely curious as to why he would be calling.

“Miss Quin.” He said happily, “How would you like to be in an Ed Sheeran music video?”

I blinked in shock, sure I had misheard, “What?”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, sorry this first chapter is so lame. Beginnings are not my strong suit. To find out more about the story and see all the little extras that go with it, check out my tumblr: http://teaenthusiast65.tumblr.com/


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